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Zogbaum. sf r-^ t VOLUME I '^ PiJTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND* LONDON I V Itmclterbocfier £Oition Astoria BY WASHINGTON IRVING VOLUME 1 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND LONL»ON Copyright, 1895 BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS Vbe ftnfcfierbocf?er ptcBB NEW ROCHE IXE, NEW YORK In Cma m^ Contents*— part !♦ Introducmon . zv Chap. I.— Objects of American Enterprise — Gold Hunting and Fur Trading — Their Effect on Colonization — Early French Canadian Settlers— Ottawa and Huron Hunters — An Indian Trading Camp — Coureurs des Bois or Rangers of the Woods — ^Their Roaming Life— Their Revels and Excesses — Licensed Traders — Missionaries — Trading Posts — Prim- itive French Canadian Merchant — His Estab- lishment and Dependants — British Canadian Fur Merchant — Origin of the Northwest Com- pany — Its Constitution — Its Internal Trade — A Candidate for the Company — Privations in the Wilderness — Northwest Clerks — North- west Partners — A Northwest Nabob — Feudal Notions in the Forests — The Lords of the Lakes — Fort William — Its Parliamentary Hall and Banqueting Room — Wassailing in the Wilderness Chap. II. — Rise of the Mackinaw Company — At- tempt of the American Government to Coun- teract Foreign Influence over the Indian ?OL.I. V m^' i^'lZ Contents PAOB Tribes— John Jacob Astor — His Birthplace — His Arrival in the United States— What first Turned his Attention to the Pur Trade— His Character, Enterprises, and Success — His Communications with the American Govern- ment — Origin of the American Fur Company 20 Chap. IH.— Fur Trade in the Pacific— American Coasting Voyages — Russian Enterprises — ^ Discovery of the Columbia River — Carver's Project to Found a Settlement There — Mac- kenzie's Expedition — Lewis and Clarke's Journey across the Rocky Mountains — Mr. Astor's Grand Commercial Scheme — His Cor- respondence on the Subject with Mr. Jefferson —His Negotiations with the Northwest Com- pany — His Steps to carry bis Scheme into Effect 29 Chap. IV.— Two Expeditions Set on Foot— The Tonquin and her Crew — Captain Thorn, his Character — The Partners and Clerks — Can- adian VoyageurSf their Habits, Employ- ments, Dress, Character, Songs — Expedition of a Canadian Boat and its Crew by I^and and Water — Arrival at New York — Preparations for a Sea Voyage — Northwest Braggarts — Underhand Precautions — I^etter of Instruc- tions 48 Chap. V. — Sailing of the Tonquin — A Rigid Com- ' mander and Reckless Crew — Landsmen on Shipboard — Fresh-water Sailors at Sea — Lub- ber Nests — Ship Fare — A Labrador Veteran- Literary Clerks— Curious Travellers — Robin- Contente tft PAOB son Cmsoe's Island— Quarter-deck Quarrels — Falkland Islands — A Wild-goose Chase- Port Egmont— Epitaph Hunting — Old Mor- tality — Penguin Shooting — Sportsmen Left in the Lurch— A Hard Pull— Further Alterca- tions — Arrival at Owyhee .... 60 Chap. VI.— Owyhee— Sandwich Islanders— Their Nautical Talents — Tamaahmaah — His Navy — His Negotiations — Views of Mr. Astor with Respect to the Sandwich Islands — Karaka- kooa — Royal Monopoly of Pork — Description of the Islanders — Gayeties on Shore — Chroni- cler of the Island — Place where Captain Cook wasKilled— John Young, a Nautical Governor — His Story— Waititi — A Royal Residence — A Royal Visit— Grand Ceremonials— Close Dealing — A Royal Pork Merchant — Griev- ances of a Matter-of-fact Man . , . • 77 Chap. VII. — Departure from the Sandwich Isl- ands — Misunderstandings — Miseries of a Suspicious Man — Arrival at the Columbia — Dangerous Service — Gloomy Apprehensions — Bars and Breakers — Perils of the Ship — Disasters of a Boat's Crew — Burial of a Sand- wich Islander 97 Chap. VIII.— Mouth of the Columbia— The Na- tive Tribes— Their Fishing— Their Canoes — Bold Navigators — Equestrian Indians and Pis- catory Indians, DiflFerence in the'*: Physical Organization— Search for a Trading Site — Expedition of M'Dougal and David Stuart — Comcomly, the One-eyed Chieftain — Influ- viii Contentd PAoa euce of Wealth in Savage Life— Slavery among the Natives — An Aristocracy of Flatheads— Hospitality among the Chinooks — Comcom- ly's Daughter— Her Conquest . . . .no Chap IX. — Point George— Founding of Astoria — Indian Visitors — Their Reception — The Captain Taboos the Ship— Departure of the Tonquin — Comments on the Conduct of Cap- tain Thorn 120 Chap. X. — Disquieting Rumors from the Interior — Reconnoitring Party — Preparations for a Trading Post — An Unexpected Arrival — A Spy in the Camp — Expedition into the Interior — Shores of the Columbia — Mount Coffin — Indian Sepulchre — ^The Land of Spirits — Co- lumbian Valley — Vancouver's Point — Falls and Rapids — A Great Fishing Mart — The Vil- lage of Wish-ram — Difference between Fish- ing Indians and Hunting Indians — Effects of Habits of Trade on the Indian Character — Post Established at the Oakinagan . .127 Chap. XI. — ^Alarm at Astoria — Rumor of Indian Hostilities — Preparations for Defence — Tragi- cal Fate of the Tonquin 144 Chap. XII. — Gloom at Astoria — An Ingenious Stratagem — ^The Small-pox Chief— Launching of the Dolly — An Arrival — A Canadian Trap- per — A Freeman of the Forest — An Iroquois Hunter— Winter on the Columbia — Festivities of New Year . 160 Chap. XIII.— Expedition by Land— Wilson P. Hunt — His Character— Donald M'Kenzie — Cottteiit0 Ix TAOR Recruiting Service anioug the Voyaj^iurs— A Bark Canoe — Chapel of St. Anne— Votive Offerings— Pious Carousals— A Ragged Regi- ment — Mackinaw — Picture of a Trading Post — Frolicking Voyageurs — Swells and Swag- gerers—Indian Coxcombs— A Man of the North— Jockeyship of Voyageurs — Inefficacy of Gold — Weight of a Feather— Mr. Ramsay Crooks — His Character — His Risks among the Indians— His Warning concerning Sioux and Blackfeet — Embarkation of Recruits — Parting Scenes betw«;en Brothers, Cousins, Wives, Sweethearts, and Pot Companions . Chap. XIV.— St. Louis— Its Situation— Motley Population — French Creole Traders and their Dependents — Missouri Fur Company — Mr. Manuel Lisa — Mississippi Boatmen--Vagrant Indians — Kentucky Hunters — Old French Mansion — Fiddling — Billiards — Mr. Joseph Miller — His Character — Recruits — Voyage up the Missouri — Difficulties of the River — Merits of Canadian Voyageurs — Arrival at the Nodowa — Mr. Robert M'Lellan Joins the Party— John Day, a Virginia Hunter — De- scriptior of him— Mr. Hunt Returns to St. Louis Chap. XV. — Opposition of the Missouri Fur Com- pany — Blackfeet Indians — Pierre Dorion, a Half-breed Interpreter— Old Dorion and his Hybrid Progeny — Family Quarrels — Cross- Purposes between Dorion and Lisa — Rene- gadoes from Nodowa — Perplexities of a Com- mander — Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall Join 170 184 Contente i^^ 1.1 I " "I I PAOB the Expedition — lyCgal Embarrassments of Pierre Dorion — Departure from St. Louis — Conjugal Discipline of a Half-breed — Annual Sweilmg of the Rivers — Daniel Boone, the Patriarch of Kentucky — John Colter — His Adventures among the Indians — Rumors of Danger Ahead— Fort Osage— An Indian War- feast — Troubles in the Dorion Family — Buf- faloes and Turkey-buzzards .... 195 Chap. XVI. — Return of Spring — Appearance of Snakes — Great Flights of Wild Pigeons — Re- newal of the Voyage — Night Encampments — Platte River — Ceremonials on Passing it — \ Signs of Indian War Parties — Magnificent ^ Prospect at Papillion Creek — Desertion of Two Hunters — An Irruption into the Camp of Indian Desperadoes — Village of the Oniahas — Anecdotes of the Tribe — Feudal Wars of the Indians — Story of Blackbird, the Famous Omaha Chief 217 Chap. XVII. — Rumors of Danger from the Sioux Tetons — Ruthless Character of those Savages — Pirates of the Missouri — Their Affair with Crooks and M'Lellan— A Trading Expedition Broken up — M'lyellan's Vow of Vengeance — Uneasiness in the Camp — Desertions — De- parture from the Omaha Village— Meeting with Jones and Carson, two Adventurous Trap- pers — Scientific Pursuits of Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall — Zeal of a Botanist — Adventure of Mr. Bradbury with a Ponca Indian — Expe- dient of the Pocket Compass and Microscope Contents) PAOB its of ouis — unual B, the —His Drs of iWar- — Buf- 195 ice of }— Re- ents — g it— ificent on of Camp Qiahas irs of imous V 217 Sioux Lvages ■ with dition eance —De- leting Trap- dbury inture Sxpe- scope PAGE — A Messenger from Lisa — Motives for Press- ing Forward 237 Chap. XVIII. — Camp Gossip — Deserters — Re- cruits — Kentucky Hunters — A Veteran Wood- man — Tidings of Mr. Henry— Danger from the Blackfeet— Alteration of Plans — Scenery of the River — Buffalo Roads — Iron Ore — Country of the Sioux — A Land of Danger — Apprehensions of the Voyageurs — Indian Scouts — Threatened Hostilities— A Council of War— An Array of Battle— A Parley— The Pipe of Peace — Speech-making . . 252 Chap. XIX. — The Great Bend of the Missouri — Crooks and M'Lellan Meet with Two of their Indian Opponents — Wanton Outrage of a White Man the Cause of Indian Hostility — Dangers and Precautions — An Indian War Party — Dangerous Situation of Mr. Hunt — A Friendly Encampment — Feasting and Dan- cing — Approach of Manuel Lisa and his Party — A Grim Meeting between Old Rivals — Pierre Dorion in a Fury — A Burst of Chivalry, 268 Chap. XX. — Features of the Wilderness — Herds of Buffalo — Antelopes ; their Varieties and Habits— John Day — His Hunting Stratagem — Interview with Three Arickaras — Negotiations between the Rival Parties— The Left-handed and the Big Man, two Arickara Chiefs — Arickara Village — Its Inhabitants — Ceremo- nials on Landing — A Council Lodge — Grand Conference — Speech of Lisa — Negotiation for Horses — Shrewd Suggestion of Gray Eyes, an xii Contentd PA08 Arickara Chief— Encampment of the Trading Parties 280 Chap. XXI. — An Indian Horse Fair — Love of the Indians for Horses — Scenes in the Arickara Village —Indian Hospitality — Duties of Indian Women — Game Habits of the Men — ^Their Indolence — Love of Gossiping — Rumors of Lurking Enemies — Scouts — An Alarm — A Sallying Forth — Indian Dogs — Return of a Hors'^-stealing Party — An Indian Deputation — Fresh Alarms — Return of a Successful War Party — Dress of the Arickaras — Indian Toilet — Triumphal Entry of the War Party — Meet- ings of Relations and Friends — Indian Sensi- bility — Meeting of a Wounded Warrior and his Mother — Festivities and Lamentations . 295 Chap. XXII.— Wilderness of the Far West— Great American Desert — Parched Seasons — Black Hills — Rocky Mountains — Wandering and Predatory Hordes — Speculations on what may be the Future Population — Apprehended Dangers — A Plot to Desert — Rose, the Inter- preter — His Sinister Character — Departure from the Arickara Village . . . • 311 Chap. XXIII. — Summer Weather of the Prairies — Purity of the Atmosphere — Canadians on the March — Sickness in the Camp— Big River — Vulgar Nomenclature — Suggestions about the Original Indian Names — Camp of Chey- ennes — Trade for Horses— Caaracter of the Cheyennes — Their Horsemanship — Historical Anecdotes of the Tribe 320 Contents xm PAOS Chap. XXIV. — New Distribution of Horses- Secret Information of Treason in the Camp — Rose, the Interpreter — His Perfidious Charac- ter — His Plots— Anecdotes of the Crow Indians — Notorious Horse Stealers — Some Account of Rose— A Desperado of the Frontier . 329 Chap. XXV. — Substitute for Fuel on the Prairies — Fossil Trees — Fierceness of the Buffaloes when in Heat — Three Hunters Missing — Signal Fires and Smokes — Uneasiness Con- cerning the Lost Men — A Plan to Forestall a Rogue — New Arrangement with Rose — Re- turn of the Wanderers 335 Chap. XXVI.— The Black Mountains— Haunts of Predatory Indians — Their Wild and Broken Appearance — Superstitions concerning them — Thunder Spirits — Singular Noises in the Mountains — Secret Mines — Hidden Treasures — Mountains in Labor — Scientific Explana- tion — Impassable Defiles — Black-Tailed Deer — The Bighorn or Ahsahta — Prospect from a Lofty Height — Plain with Herds of Buffalo- Distant Peaks of the Rocky Mountains — Alarms in the Camp — Tracks of Grizzly Bears — Dangerous Nature of this Animal — Adven- tures of William Cannon and John Day with Grizzly Bears 343 Chap. XXVII. — Indian Trail— Rough Mountain Travelling — Sufferings from Hunger and Thirst — Powder River— Game in Abundance — A Hunter's Paradise— Mountain Peak Seen at a Great Distance — One of the Bighorn Chain jtiv Content0 PAOB — Rocky Mountains— Extent— Appearance — Height — The Great American Desert — Vari- ous Characteristics of the Mountains — Indian Superstitions concerning them — Land of Souls — Towns of the Free and Generous Spirits— Happy Hunting Grounds . . . 355 C^AP. XXVIII.—Region of the Crow Indians- Scouts on the Lookout — ^Visit from a Crew of Hard Riders — A Crow Camp — Presents to the Crow Chief — Bargaining — Crow Bullies — Rose among his Indian Friends — Parting with the Crows — Perplexities among the Mountains — More of the Crows — Equestrian Children — Search after Stragglers . . . 363 Chap. XXIX.— Mountain Glens — Wandering Band of Savages— Anecdotes of Shoshonies and Flatheads— Root Diggers — ^Their Solitary Lurking Habits — Gnomes of the Mountains — ^Wind River— Scarcity of Food — ^Alteration of Route — The Pilot Knobs or Tetons— Branch of the Colorado — Hunting Camp . . . 373 Cbap. XXX.— a Plentiful Hunting Camp— Sho- shonie Hunters — Hoback's River — Mad River — Encampment Near the Pilot Knobs — ^A Consultation — Preparations for a Perilous Voyage 384 I Inttobuctfon* N the course of occasional visits to Canada many years since, I became intimately ac- quainted with some of the principal part- ners of the great Northwest Fur Company, who at that time lived in genial style at Mont- real, and kept almost open house for the stran- ger. At their hospitable boards I occasionally met with partners, and clerks, and hardy fur tra- ders from the interior posts ; men whohad passed years remote from civilized society, among dis- tant and savage tribes, and who had wonders to recount of their wide and wild peregrina- tions, their hunting exploits, and their perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes among the Indians. I was at an age when imagination lends its coloring to everything, and the stories of these Sinbads of the wilderness made the life of a trapper and fur trader perfect romance to me. I even meditated at one time a visit to the remote posts of the company in the boats which annually ascended the lakes and rivers, being XY XVI fntroductfon thereto -invited by one of the partners ; and I have ever since regretted that I was prevented by circumstances from carrying my intention into effect. From those early impressions, the grand enterprise of the great fur companies, and the hazardous errantry of their associates in the wild parts of our vast continent, have always been themes of charmed interest to me ; and I have felt anxious to get at the details of their adventurous expeditions among the savage tribes that peopled the depths of the wilderness. About two years ago, not long after my re- turn from a tour upon the prairies of the far West, I had a conversation with my friend, Mr. John Jacob Astor, relative to that portion of our country, and to the adventurous traders to, Santa F6 and the Columbia. This led him to advert to a great enterprise set on foot and con- ducted by him, between twenty and thirty years since, having for its object to carry the fur trade across the Rocky Mountains, and to sweep the shores of the Pacific. Finding that I took an interest in the sub- ject, he expressed a regret that the true nature and extent of his enterprise and its national character and importance had never been un- derstood, and a wish that I would undertake to give an account of it. The suggestion struck fntroductfon xvu upon the chord of early associations -already vibrating in my mind. It occurred to me that a work of this kind might comprise a variety of those curious details, so interesting to me, illustrative of the fur trade ; of its remote and adventurous enterprises, and of the various people, and tribes, and castes, and characters, civilized and savage, affected by its operations. The journals, and letters, also, of the adven- turers by sea and land employed by Mr. Astor in his comprehensive project, might throw light upon portions of our country quite out of the track of ordinary travel, and as yet but little known. I therefore felt disposed to undertake the task, provided documents of sufficient extent and minuteness could be furnished to me. All the papers relative to the enterprise were accordingly submitted to my inspection. Among them were journals and letters narra- ting expeditions by sea, and journeys to and fro across the Rocky Mountains by routes be- fore untra veiled, together with documents illus- trative of savage and colonial life on the borders of the Pacific. With such material in hand, I undertook the work. The trouble of rumma- ging among business papers, and of collecting and collating facts from amidst tedious and commonplace details, was spared me by my nephew, Pierre M. Irving, who acted as my XVlll fntro^uction i j pioneer, and to whom I am greatly indebted for smoothing my path and lightening my labors. As the journals, on which I chiefly depended, had been kept by men of business, intent upon the main object of the enterprise, and but little versed in science, or curious about matters not immediately bearing upon their interest, and as they were written often in moments of fatigue or hurry, amid the inconveniences of wild en- campments, they were often meagre in their details, furnishing hints to provoke rather than narratives to satisfy inquiry. I have, there- fore, availed myself occasionally of collateral lights supplied by the published journals of other travellers who have visited the scenes described : such as Messrs. Lewis and Clarke, Bradbury, Breckenridge, Long, Franchere, and Foss Cox, and make a general acknowledg- ment of aid received from these quarters. The work I here present to the public, is necessarily of a rambling and somewhat dis- jointed nature, comprising various expeditions and adventures by land and sea. The facts, however, will prove to be linked and banded together by one grand scheme, devised and conducted by a master spirit ; one set of charac- ters, also, continues throughout, appearing occasionally, though sometimes at long inter- Introduction XIX vals, and the whole enterprise winds up by a regular catastrophe; so that the work, with- out any labored attempt at artificial construc- tion, actually possesses much of that unity so much sought after in works of fiction, and considered so important to the interests of every history. \ I |i»IHi»fcMi^ri— WJfcP adtoria / ASTORIA. Cbaptet f • Objects of American Enterprise—Gold Hunting and Fur Trading— Early French Canadian Settlers— Ottawa and Huron Hunters — An Indian Trading Camp— Missionaries — Primitive French Canadian Merchanw— British Canadian Fur Merchant — Origin of the Northwest Company— The Lords of the Lakes — Fort William — Wassailing in the Wilderness. TWO leading objects of commercial gain have given birth to wide and daring enterprise in the early history of the Americas ; the precious metals of the South, and the rich peltries of the North. While the fiery and magnificent Spaniard, in- flamed with the mania for gold, has extended his discoveries and conquests over those bril- liant countries scorched by the ardent sun of the tropics, the adroit and buoyant Frenchman, 2l0toria and the cool and calculating Briton, have pur- sued the less splendid, but no less lucrative, traffic in furs amidst the hyperborean regions of the Canadas, until they have advanced even within the Arctic Circle. These two pursuits have thus in a manner been the pioneers and precursors of civilization. Without pausing on the borders, they have penetrated at once, in defiance of difficulties and dangers, to the heart of savage countries ; laying open the hidden secrets of the wilder- ness,; leading the way to remote regions of beauty and fertility that might have remained unexplored for ages, and beckoning after them the slow and pausing steps of agriculture and civilization. It was the fur trade, in fact, which gave early sustenance and vitality to the great Cana- dian provinces. Being destitute of the precious metals, at that time the leading objects of Am- erican enterprise, they were long neglected by the parent country. The French adventurers, however, who had settled on the banks of the St. Lawrence, soon found that in the rich pel- tries of the interior, they had sources of wealth that might almost rival the mines of Mexico and Peru. The Indians, as yet unacquainted with the artificial value given to some descrip- tions of furs, in civilized life, brought quanti- OolD f>unttn0 and fur (Tradfttd ties of the most precious kinds and bartered them away for European trinkets and cheap commodities. Immense profits were thus made by the early traders, and the traffic was pur- sued with avidity. As the valuable furs soon became scarce in the neighborhood of the settlements, the In- dians of the vicinity were stimulated to take a wider range in their hunting expeditions ; they were generally accompanied on these expedi- tions by some of the traders or their depend- ents, who shared in the toils and perils of the chase, and at the same time made themselves acquainted with the best hunting and trapping grounds, and with the remote tribes, whom they encouraged to bring their peltries to the settlements. In this way the trade augmented, and was drawn from remote quarters to Mon- treal. Every now and then a large body of Ottawas, Hurons, and other tribes who hunted the countries bordering on the great lakes, would come down in a squadron of* light canoes, laden with beaver skins, and other spoils of their year's hunting. The canoes would be unladen, taken on shore, and their contents disposed in order. A camp of birch bark would be pitched outside of the town, and a kind of primitive fair opened with that grave ceremonial so dear to the Indians. An Betorfa audience would be demanded of the governor- geueral, who would hold the conference with becoming state, seated in an elbow-chair, with the Indians ranged in semi-circles before him, seated on the ground, and silently smoking their pipes. Speeches would be made, presents exchanged, and the audience would break up in universal good humor. Now would ensue a brisk traffic with the merchants, and all Montreal would be alive with naked Indians running from shop to shop, bargaining for arms, kettles, knives, axes, blankets, bright-colored cloths, and other arti- cles of use or fancy ; upon all which, says an old French writer, the merchants were sure to clear at least two hundred per cent. There was no money used in this traffic, and, after a time, all payment in spirituous liquors was prohibited, in consequence of the frantic and ^rightful excesses and bloody brawls which they were apt to occasion. Their wants and caprices being supplied, they would take leave of the governor, strike their tents, launch their canoes, and ply their way up the Ottawa to the lakes. A new and anomalous class of men gradu- ally grew out of this trade. These were called coureurs des bois, rangers of the woods ; origi- nally men who had accompanied the Indiana Coureur0 ^ce 3Boi0 in their hunting expeditions, and made them* selves acquainted with remote tracts and tribes ; and who now became, as it were, peddlers of the wilderness. These men would set out from Montreal with canoes well stocked with goods, with arms and ammunition, and would make their way up the mazy and wandering rivers that interlace the vast forests of the Canadas, coasting the most remote lakes, and creating new wants and habitudes among the natives. Sometimes they sojourned for months among them, assimilating to their tastes and habits with the happy facility of Frenchmen, adopting in some degree the Indian dress, and not unfrequently taking to themselves Indian wives. Twelve, fifteen, eighteen months would often elapse without any tidings of them, when they would come sweeping their way down the Ottawa in full glee, their canoes laden down with packs of beaver skins. Now came their turn for revelry and extravagance. "You would be amazed, ' ' says an old writer already quoted, * * if you saw how lewd these peddlers are when they return ; how they feast and game, and how prodigal they are, not only in their clothes, but upon their sweethearts. Such of them as are married have the wisdom to retire to their own houses ; but the bache- n I 6 2i0toria lors act just as an East Indiaman and pirates are wont to do ; for they lavish, eat^ drink, and play all away as long as the goods hold out ; and when these are gone, they even sell their embroidery, their lace, and their clothes. This done, they are forced upon a new voyage for subsistence." * Many of these coureurs des bois became so accustomed to the Indian mode of living, and the perfect freedom of the wilderness, that they lost all relish for civilization, and identified themselves with the savages among whom they dwelt, or could only be distinguished from them by superior licentiousness. Their conduct and example gradually corrupted the natives, and impeded the works of the Catholic missionaries, who were at this time prosecut- ing their pious labors in the wilds of Canada. To check these abuses, and to protect the fui trade from various irregularities practised by these loose adventurers, an order was issued by the French government prohibiting all per- sons, on pain of death, from trading into the interior of the country without a license. These licenses were granted in writing by the governor-general, and at first were given only to persons of respectability ; to gentlemen of broken fortunes ; to old officers of the army * La Houtan, v. i., let. 4. » f M Xfcensed (TraDers 7 who had families to provide for; or to their widows. Each license permitted the fitting out of two large canoes with merchandise for the lakes, and no more than twenty-five licenses were to be issued in one year. By degrees, however, private licenses were also granted, and the number rapidly increased. Those who did not choose to fit out the expeditions them- selves, were permitted to sell them to the mer- chants ; these employed the coureurs des bois^ or rangers of the woods, to undertake the long voyages on shares, and thus the abuses of the old system were revived and continued.* * The following are the terms on which these expe- ditions were commonly undertaken. The merchant holding the license would fit out the two canoes with a thousand crowns' worth of goods, and put them under the conduct of six coureurs des bois^ to whom the goods were exchanged at the rate of fifteen per cent, above the ready money price in the colony. The coureurs des bois^ in their turn, dealt so sharply with the savages, that they generally returned, at the end of a j^ear or so, with four canoes well laden, so as to insure a clear profit of seven hundred per cent., insomuch that the thousand crowns invested, pro- duced eight thousand. Of this extravagant profit the merchant had the lion's share. In the first place he would set aside six hundred crowns for the cost of his license, then a thousand crowns for the cost of the original merchandise. This would leave six thousand four hundred crowns, from which he would (\ -rT" I Batorla The pious missionaries, employed by the Roman Catholic Church to convert the Indians, did everything in their power to counteract the profligacy caused and propagated by these men in the heart of the wilderness. The Catholic chapel might often be seen planted beside the trading house, and its spire surmounted by a cross, towering from the midst of an Indian village, on the banks of a river or a lake. The missions had often a beneficial effect on the simple sons of the forest, but had little power over the renegades from civilization. At length it was found necessary to establish fortified posts at the confluence of the rivers and the lakes for the protection of the trade, and the restraint of these profligates of the wilderness. The most important of these was at Michilimackinac, situated at the strait of the same name, which connects Lakes Huron and Michigan. It became the great interior mart and place of deposit, and some of the rep-ular merchants who prosecuted the trade in person, under their licenses, formed establishments here. This, too, was a rendezvous for the take forty per cent, for bottomry, amounting to two thousand five hundred and sixty crowns. The residue would be equally divided among the six wood rangers, who would thus receive little more than six hundred crowns for all their toils and perils. li! i JSritfab fur traders 9 rangers of the woods, as well those who came up with goods from Montreal as those who returned with peltries from the interior. Here new expeditions were fitted out and took their departure for Lake Michigan and the Missis- sippi ; Lake Superior and the Northwest ; and here the peltries brought in return were em- barked for Montreal. The French merchant at his trading post, in these primitive days of Canada, was a kind of commercial patriarch. With the lax habits and easy familiarity of his race, he had a little world of self-indulgence and misrule around him. He had his clerks, canoe men, and retainers of all kinds, who lived with him on terms of perfect sociability, always calling him by his Christian name ; he had his harem of Indian beauties, and his troop of half-breed children ; nor was there ever wanting a lout- ing train of Indians, hanging about the estab- lishment, eating and drinking at his expense in the intervals of their hunting expeditions. The Canadian traders, for a long tim6, had troublesome competitors in the British mer- chants of New York, who inveigled the Indian hunters and the coureurs des bois to their posts, and traded with them on more favorable terms. A still more formidable opposition was organ- ized in the Hudson Bay Company, chartered \ ■II TT 10 Bdtorfa I I I by Charles II., in 1670, with the exclusive privilege of establishing trading houses on the shores of that bay and its tributary rivers ; a privilege which they have maintained to the present day. Between this British company and the French merchants of Canada, feuds and contests ?.rost about alleged infringements of territorial limits, and acts of violence and bloodshed occurred between their agents. In 1762, the French lost possession of Can- ada, and the trade fell principally into the hands of British subjects. For a time, how- ever, it shrunk within narrow limits. The old coureurs des bois were broken up and dispersed, or, where they could be met with, were slow to accustom themselves to the habits and manners of their British employers. They missed the freedom, indulgence, and familiarity of the old French trading houses, and did not relish the sober exactness, reserve, and method of the new-comers. The British traders, too, were ignorant of the country, and distrustful of the natives. They had reason to be so. The treacherous and bloody affairs of Detroit and Michilimackinac showed them the lurking hos- tility cherished by the savages, who had too long been taught by the French to regard them as enemies. It was not until the year 1766, that the trade \ JSrftidb Vlortbweet Company II regained its old channels ; but it was then pursued with much avidity and emulation by individual merchants, and soon transcended its former bounds. Expeditions were fitted out by various persons from Montreal a!id Michilimackinac, and rivalships and jealousies of course ensued. The trade was injured by their artifices to outbid and undermine each other ; the Indians were debauched by the sale of spirituous liquors, which had been pro- hibited under the French rule. Scenes of drunkenness, brutality, and brawl were the consequence, in the Indian villages and around the trading houses ; while bloody feuds took place between rival trading parties when they happened to encounter each other in the law- less depths of the wilderness. To put an end to these sordid and ruinous contentions, several of the principal merchants of Mdfntreal entered into a partnership in the winter of 1783, which was augmented by amalgamation with a rival company in 1787. Thus was created the famous " Northwest Company," which for a time held a lordly sway over the wintry lakes and boundless forests of the Canadas, almost equal to that of the East India Company over the voluptuous climes and magnificent realms of the Orient. The company consisted of twenty-three t! < h r 13 90tocfa i: V, Mi' r shareholders, or partners, but held in its em- ploy about two thousand persons as clerks, guides, interpreters, and voyagcurs^ or boat- men. These were distributed at various trad- ing posts, established far and wide on the interior lakes and rivers, at immense distances from each other, and in the heart of trackless countries and savage tribes. Several of the partners resided in Montreal and Quebec, to manage the main concerns of the company. These were called agents, and were personages of great weight and import- ance ; the other partners took their stations at the interior posts, where they remained through- out the winter, to superintend the intercourse with the various tribes of Indians. They were thence called wintering partners. Tlie goods destined for this wide and w^ander- ing traffic were put up at the warehouses of the company in Montreal, and conveyed in batteaux, or boats and canoes, up the river Attawa, or Ottowa, which falls into the St. Lawrence near Montreal, and by other rivers and portages, to Lake Nipising, Lake Huron, Lake Superior, and thence, by several chains of great and small lakes, to Lake Winnipeg, Lake Athabasca, and the Great Slave Lake. This singular and beautiful system of internal seas, which renders an immense region of A Sriti0b flortbweet Company 13 (vilderness so accessible to the frail bark of the Indian or the trader, was studded by the re- mote posts of the company, where they carried on their traffic with the surrounding tribes. The company, as we have shown, was at first a spontaneous association of merchants ; but, after it had been regularly organized, ad- mission into it became extremely difficult. A candidate had to enter, as it were, ' ' before the mast," to undergo a long probation, and to rise slowly by his merits and services. He began, at an early age, as a clerk, and served an apprenticeship of seven years, for which he received one hundred pounds sterling, was maintained at the expense of the company, and furnished with suitable clothing and equip- ments. His probation was generally passed at the interior trading posts ; removed for years from civilized society, leading a life almost as wild and precarious as the savages around him ; exposed to the severities of a northern winter, often suffering from a scarcity of food, and sometimes destitute for a long time of both bread and salt. When his apprenticeship had expired, he received a salary according to his deserts, var> ing from eighty to one hundred and sixty pounds sterling, and was now eligible to the great object of his ambition, a partnership in the company ; though years might yet I ? y '\ 'I i 1 11 n H B0tor(a elapse before he attained to that enviable station. Most of the clerks were young men of good families, from the Highlands of Scotland, characterized by the perseverance, thrift, and fidelity of their country, and fitted by their native hardihood to encounter the rigorous climate of the North, and to endure the trials and privations of their lot ; though it must not be concealed that the constitutions of many of them became impaired by the hard.ships of the wilderness, and their stomachs injured by occa- sional famishing, and especially by the want of bread and salt. Now and then, at an in- terval of years, they were permitted to come down on a visit to the establishment at Mon- treal, to recruit their health, and to have a taste of civilized life ; and these were brilliant spots in their existence. As to the principal partners, or agents, who resided in Montreal and Quebec, they formed a kind of commercial aristocracy, living in lordly and hospitable style. Their early associations when clerks at the remote trading posts, and the pleasures, dangers, adventures, and mis- haps which they had shared together in their wild wood life, had linked them heartily to each other, so that they formed a convivial fraternity. Few travellers that have visited '< fiortbwc0t partners 18 Canada some thirty years since, in the days of the M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, the M'Ken- zies, the Krobishers, and the other magnates of the Northwest, when the company was in all its glory, but must remember the round of feasting and revelry kept up among these hy- perborean nabobs. Sometimes one or two partners, recently from the interior posts, would make their appearance in New York, in the course of a tour of pleasure and curiosity. On these occa- sions there was always a degree of magnifi- cence of the purse about them, and a peculiar propensity to expenditure at the goldsmith's and jeweller's for rings, chains, brooches, neck- laces, jewelled watches, and other rich trinkets, partly for their own wear, partly for presents to their female acquaintances ; a gorgeous prodi- gality, such as was often to be noticed in former times in Southern planters and West India Cre- oles, when flush with the profits of their plan- tations. To behold the Northwest Company in all its state and grandeur, however, it was necessary to witness an annual gathering at the great interior place of conference established at Fort William, near what is called the Grand Port- age, on lyake Superior. Here two or three of the leading partners from Montreal proceeded .' I' ,ll • (A ! 1 I6 2i0ton2» i'(; (i H li^ once a year to meet the partners from the vari- ous trading posts of the wilderness, to discuss the affairs of the company during the preceding year, and to arrange plans for the future. On these occasions might be seen the change since the unceremonious times of the old French traders ; now the aristocratical char- acter of the Briton shone forth magnificently, or rather the feudal spirit of the Highlander. Every partner who had charge of an interior post, and a score of retainers at his command, felt like the chieftain of a Highland clan, and was almost as important in the eyes of his de- pendants as of himself. To him a visit to the grand conference at Fort William was a most important event, and he repaired there as to a meeting of parliament. ^ The partners from Montreal, however, were the lords of the ascendant ; coming from the midst of luxuries and ostentatious life, they quite eclipsed their compeers from the woods, whose forms and faces had been battered and hardened by hard living and hard service, and whose garments and equipments were all the worse for wear. Indeed, the partners from below considered the whole dignity of the com- pany as represented in their persons, and con- ducted themselves in suitable style. They ascended the rivers in great state, like sov- ;rbe Olotice of #ott Tmilliam 17 ereigns making a progress ; or rather like Highland chieftains navigating their subject lakes. They were wrapped in rich furs, their huge canoes freighted with every convenience and luxury, and manned by Canadian vojy- ageurs, as obedient as Highland clansmen. They carried up with them cooks and bakers, together with delicacies of every kind, and abundance of choice wines for the banquet, which attended this great convocation. Happy were they, too, if they could meet with some distinguished stranger ; above all, some titled member of the British nobility, to accompany them on this stately occasion, and grace their high solemnities. Fort William, the scene of this important annual meeting, was a considerable village on the banks of Lake Superior. Here, in an im- mense wooden building, was the great council hall, as also the banqueting chamber, decorated with Indian arms and accoutrements, and the trophies of the fur trade. The house swarmed at this time with traders and voyageurs^ some from Montreal, bound to the interior posts ; some from the interior posts, bound to Mon- treal. The councils were held in great state, for every member felt as if sitting in parlia- ment, and every retainer and dependant looked up to the assemblage with awe, as to the House ^ if (i J y\ VOL, I.— a i8 'J '.I /( V { I'i Betoria of lyords. There was a vast deal of solemn deliberation, and hard Scottish reasoning, with an occasional swell of pompous declamation. These grave and weighty councils were alter- nated by huge feasts and revels, like some of the old feasts described in Highland cas- tles. The tables in the great banqueting room groaned under the weight of game of all kinds ; of venison from the woods, and fish from the lakes, with hunters' delicacies, such as buffa- loes' tongues and beavers' tails, and luxuries from Montreal, all served up by experienced cooks brought for the purpose. There was no stint of generous wine, for it was a hard-drink- ing period, a time of loyal toasts, and baccha- nalian songs, and brimming bumpers. While the chiefs thus revelled in hall, and made the rafters resound with bursts of loyalty and old Scottish songs, chanted in voices cracked and sharpened by the northern blast, their merriment was echoed and prolonged by a mongrel legior of retainers, Canadian voyageurs^ half-breeds, Indian hunters, and vagabond hangers-on who feasted sumptuously without on the crumbs that fell from their table, and made the welkin ring with old French dit- ties, mingled with Indian yelps and yellings. Such was the Northwest Company in its powerful and prosperous days, "v/hen it held a Zbc Xord0 of tbe Xaftes 19 kind of feudal sway over a vast domain of lake and forest. We ai*e dwelling too long, perhaps, upon these individual pictures, endeared to us by the associations of early life, when as yet a stripling youth, we have sat at the hospitable boards of the "mighty Northwesters," the lords of the ascendant at Montreal, and gazed with wondering and inexperienced eye at the baronial wassailing, and listened with aston- ished ear to their tales of hardships and adven- tures. It is one object of our task, however, to present scenes of the rough life of the wilder- ness, and we are tempted to fix these few memorials of a transient state of things fast passing into oblivion ;— for the feudal state of Fort William is at an end ; its council chamber is silent and deserted ; its banquet hall no longer echoes to the burst of loyalty, or the "auld world '* ditty ; the lords of the lakes and forests have passed away ; and the hospi- table magnates of Montreal — where are they ? } '■' ! "Li 1 f h ft ,S'1 Cbapter f IT* I In '■' Rise of the Mackinaw Company — Attempt of the American Government to Counteract Foreign Influ- ence over the Indian Tribes — John Jacob Astor — His Birth place — His Arrival in the United States — His Character, Enterprises,- and Success — Origin of the American Fur Company. THE success of the Northwest Company stimulated further enterprise in this opening and apparently boundless field of profit. The traffic of that company lay principally in the high northern latitudes, while there were immense regions to the south and west, known to abound with valuable pel- tries ; but which, as yet, had been but little explored by the fur trader. A new association of British merchants was therefore formed to prosecute the trade in this direction. The chief factory was established at the old em- porium of Michilimackinac, from which place the avssoclation took its name, and was com- monly called the Mackinaw Company. 20 V W. m '/I Zbe Aachinaw Company 2i While the Northwesters continued to push their enterprises into the hyperborean regions from their stronghold at Fort William, and to hold almost sovereign sway over the tribes of the upper lakes and rivers, the Mackinaw Company sent forth their light perogues and barks, by Green Bay, Fox River, and the Wisconsin, to that great artery of the West, the Mississippi ; and down that stream to all its tributary rivers. In this way they hoped soon to monopolize the trade with all the tribes on the southern and western waters, and of those vast tracts comprised in ancient Louisi- ana. The government of the United States began to view with a wary eye the growing influence thus acquired by co*^binations of foreigners, over the aboriginal tribes inhabiting its terri- tories, and endeavored to counteract it. For this purpose, as early as 1796, the government sent out agents to establish rival trading houses on the frontier, so as to supply the wants of the Indians, to link their interests and feelings with those of the people of the United States, and to divert this important branch of trade into national channels. The expedition, however, was unsuccessful, as most commercial expedients are prone to be, where the dull patronage of government is 22 Bdtoria ^-1 hi : t • 'I \> counted upon to outvie the keen activity of private enterprise. What governireut failed to effect, however, with all its patronage and all its agents, was at length brought about by the enterprise and perseverance of a single merchant, one of its adopted citizens ; and this brings us to speak of the individual whose enterprise is the especial subject of the follow- ing pages ; a man whose name and character are worthy of being enrolled in the history of commerce, as illustrating its noblest aims and soundest maxims. A few brief anecdotes of his earl}^ life, and of the circumstances which first determined him to the branch of commerce of which we are treating, cannot be but inter- esting. John Jacob Astor, the individual in question, was born in the honest little German village of Waldorf, near Heidelberg, on the banks of the Rhine. He was brought up in the simplicity of rural life, but, while yet a mere stripling, left his home, and launched himself amid the busy scenes of London, having had, from his very boyhood, a singular presentiment that he would ultimately arrive at great fortune. At the close of the American Revolution he was still in London, and scarce on the thres- hold of active life. An elder brother had been for some few years resident in the United 5obn 5acob Betoc 33 States, and Mr. Astor determined to follow him, and to seek his fortunes in the rising country. Investing a small sum which he had amassed since leaving his native village, in merchandise suited to the American market, he embarked, in the month of November, 1783, in a ship bound to Baltimore, and arrived in Hampton Roads in the month of January. The winter was extremely severe, and the ship, with many others, was detained by the ice in and about Chesapeake Bay for nearly three months. During this period, the passengers of the various ships used occasionally to go on shore, and mingle sociably together. In this way Mr. Astor became acquainted with a country- man of his, a furrier by trade. Having had a previous impression that this might be a lucra- tive trade in the New World, he made many inquiries of his new acquaintance on the sub- ject, who cheerfully gave him all the informa- tion in his power as to the quality and value of different furs, and the mode of carrying on the traffic. He subsequently accompanied him to New York, and, by his advice, Mr. Astor was induced to invest the proceeds of his mer- chandise in furs. With these he sailed from New York to I^ondon in 1784 disposed of them advantageously, made himself further V IJ ^1 ill u 1 i ■ r :1 ri' M Betoria acquainted with the course of the trade, and returned the same year to New York, with a view to settle in the United States. He now devoted himself to the branch of commerce with which he had thus casually been made acquainted. He began his career, of course, on the narrowest scale ; but he brought to the task a persevering industry, rigid economy, and strict integrity. To these x tre added an aspiring spirit that always looked upwards ; a genius bold, fertile, and expan- sive; a sagacity quick to grasp and convert every circumstance to its advantage, and a singular and never-wavering confidence of signal success.* As yet, trade in peltries was not organized in the United States, and could not be said to form a regular line of business. Furs and skins were casually collected by the country traders in their dealings with the Indians or the white * An instance of this buoyant confidence, which no doubt aided to produce the success it anticipated, we have from the lips of Mr. A. himself. While yet al- most a stranger in the city, and in very narrow circum- stances, he passed by where a row of houses had just been erected in Broadway, and which, from the supe- rior style of their architecture, were the talk and boast of the city. "I '11 build, one day or other, a greater house than any of these, in this very street," said he to himself. He has accomplished his prediction. .( S>eaUn00 in Canada 25 hunters, but the main supply was derived from Canada. As Mr. Astor's means increased, he made annual visits to Montreal, where he pur- chased furs from the houses at that place en- gaged in the trade. These he shipped from Canada to London, no direct trade being fal- lowed from that colony to any but the mother country. In 1794 or '95, a treaty with Great Britain removed the restrictions imposed upon the trade with the colonies, and opened a direct commer- cial intercourse between Canada and the United States. Mr. Astor was in London at the time, and immediately made a contract with the agents of the Northwest Company for furs. He was now enabled to import them from Montreal into the United States for the home supply, and to be shipped thence to different parts of Europe, as well as to China, which has ever been the best market for the richest and finest kinds of peltry. The treaty in question provided, likewise, that the military posts occupied by the British within the territorial limits of the United States should be surrendered. Accoi dingly , Oswego, Niagara, Detroit, Michilimackinac, and other posts on the American side of the lakes, were given up. An opening was thus made for the American merchant to trade on the confines of ■• I 36 Betotta '.f c.l (I i: u liili 11 ;. ;:l (^: Canada, and within the territories of the United States. After an interval of some years, about 1807, Mr. Astor embarked in this trade on his own account. His capital and resources had by this time greatly augmented, and he had risen from small beginnings to take his place among the first merchants and financiers of the country. His genius had ever been in advance of his circumstances, prompting him to new and wide fields of enterprise beyond the scope of ordinary merchants. With all his enterprise and resources, however, he soon found the power and influence of the Michilimackinac (or Mackinaw) Company too great for him, having engrossed most of the trade within the American borders. A plan had to be devised to enable him to enter into successful competition. He was aware of the wish of the American government, already stated, that the fur trade within its boundaries should be in the hands of American citizens, and of the ineffectual measures it had taken to accomplish that object. He now of- fered, if aided and protected by government, to turn the whole of that trade into American channels. He was invited to unfold his plans to government, and they were warmly approved, though the executive could give no direct aid. Thus countenanced, however, he obtained, Soutb>vc0t Company 27 in 1809, a charter from the Legislature of the vState of New York, incorporating a company under the name of * * The American Fur Com- pany," with a capital of one million of dollars, with the privilege of increasing it to two mil- lions. The capital was furnished by himself — he, in fact, constituted the company ; for, though he had a board of directors, they were merely nominal ; the whole business was con- ducted on his plans and with his resources, but he preferred to do so under the imposing and formidable aspect of a corporation, rather than in his individual name, and his policy was sagacious and effective. As the Mackinaw Company still continued its rivalry, and as the fur trade would not ad- vantageously admit of competition, he made a new arrangement in 181 1, by which, in conjunc- tion with certain partners of the Northwest Company, and other persons engaged in the fur trade, he bought out the Mackinaw Com- pany, and merged that and the American Fur Company into a new association, to be called the ' ' Southwest Company. ' * This he likewise did with the privity and approbation of the American government. By this arrangement Mr. Astor became pro- prietor of one half of the Indian establishments and goods which the Mackinaw Company had \^. S If- :ii; , : : 1: « fj ^ \ a8 Betoria within the territory of the Indian conntry in the United States, and it was understood that the whole was to be surrendered into his hands at the expiration of five years, on condition that the American Company would not trade within the British dominions. Unluckily, the war which broke out in 1812 between Great Britain and the United States suspended the association ; and, after the war, it was entirely dissolved ; Congress having passed a law prohibiting the British fur traders from prosecuting their enterprises within the territories of the United States. Hi I Gbapter Iff. .5 VI Fur Trade in the Pacific — American Coasting Voyages — Russian Enterprises — Discovery of the Columbia River— Carver's Project to Found a Settlement There — Mackenzie's Expedition— Lewis and Clarke's Journey across the Rocky Mountains — Mr. Astor's Grand Commercial Scheme. WHIIyK the various companies we have noticed were pushing their enter- prises far and wide in the wilds of Canada, and along the course of the great western waters, other adventurers, intent on the same objects, were traversing the watery wastes of the Pacific and skirting the north- west coast of America. The last voyage of that renowned but unfortunate discoverer, Cap- tain Cook, had made known the vast quantities of the sea- otter to be found along that coast, and the immense prices to be obtained for its fur in China. It was as if a new gold coast had been discovered. Individuals from vari- 29 -'ti I" J ii d: i 30 Betorfa I.' •u I " ) i. If ous countries dashed into this lucrative traffic, so that in the year 1792, there were twenty -one vessels under different flags, plying along the coast and trading with the natives. The greater part of them were Ametican, and owned by Bos- ton merchants. They generally remained on the coast and about the adjacent seas, for two years, carrying on as wandering and adventur- ous a commerce on the water as did the traders and trappers on land. Their trade extended along the whole coast from California to the high northern latitudes. They would run in near shore, anchor, and 'vait for the natives to come off in their canoes with peltries. The trade exhausted at one place, they would up anchor and off to another. In this way they would consume the summer, and when autumn came on, would run down to the Sandwich Isl- ands and winter in some friendly and plentiful harbor. In the following year they would re- sume their summer trade, commencing at Cali- fornia and proceeding north : and, having in the course of the two seasons collected a suffi- tient cargo of peltries, would make the best of their way to China. Here they would sell their furs, take in teas, nankeens, and other merchan- dise, and return to Boston, after an absence of two or three years. The people, however, who entered most ex- li > I I ,, V 1lU00fan iBntctvtlsce 31 i^ "ii tensively and effectively in the fur trade of the Pacific, were the Russians. Instead of making casual voyages, in transient ships, they estab- lished regular trading houses in the high lati- tudes, along the northwest coast of America, and upon the chain of the Aleutian Islands be- tween Kamtschatka and the promontory of Alaska. To promote and protect these enterprises, a company was incorporated by the Russian gov- ernment with exclusive privileges, and a capi- tal of two hundred and sixty thousand pounds sterling ; and the sovereignty of that part of the American continent, along the coast of which the posts had been established, was claimed by the Russian crown on the plea that the land had been discovered and occuj^ied by its subjects. As China was the grand mart for the furs collected in these quarters, the Russians had the advantage over their competitors in the trade. The latter had to take their peltries to Canton, which, he wever, was a mere receiving mart, from whence they had to be distributed over the interior of the empire and sent to the northern parts, where there was the chief con- sumption. The Russians, on the contrary, carried their furs, by a shorter voyage, directly to the northern parts of the C lese empire ; 4 M 32 Bdtorfa /; IM thus being able to afford them in the market without the additional cost of internal trans- portation. We come now to the immediate field of opera- tion of the great enterprise we have undertaken to illustrate. Among the American ships which traded along the northwest coast in 1792, was the Columbia^ Captain Gray, of Boston. In the course of her voyage she discovered the mouth of a large river in lat. 46° 19' north. Entering it with some difficulty, on account of sand-bars and breakers, she came to anchor in a spacious bay. A boat was well manned, and sent on shore to a village on the beach, but all the in- habitants fled excepting the aged and infirm. The kind manner in which these were treated, and the presents given to them, gradually lured back the others, and a friendly intercourse took place. They had never seen a ship or a white man. When they had first descried the Colum- bia^ they had supposed it a floating island ; then some monster of the deep ; but when they saw the boat putting for shore with human beings on board, they considered them cannibals sent by the Great Spirit to ravage the country and devour the inhabitants. Captain Gray did not ascend the river farther than the bay in ques- tion, which continues to bear his name. After \^ Di0covecis of tbe Columbia 33 putting to sea, he fell in with the celebrated discoverer, Vancou^''ir, and informed him of his discovery, furnishing him with a chart \i hich he had made of the river. Vancouver visited the river, and his lieutenant, Broughton, explored it by the aid of Captain Gray's chart ; ascending it upwards of one hundred miles, until within view of a snowy mountain, to which he gave the name of Mount Hood, which it still retains. The existence of this river, however, was known long before the visits of Gray and Van- couver, but the information concerning it was vague and indefinite, being gathered from the reports of Indians. It was spoken of by trav- ellers as the Oregon, and as the Great River of the West. A Spanish ship is said to have been wrecked at the mouth, several of the crew of which lived for some time among the natives. The Columbia^ however, is believed to be the first ship that made a regular dis- covery and anchored within its waters, and it has since generally borne the nauie of that vessel. As early as 1763, shortly after the acquisi- |tion of the Canadas by Great Britain, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had been in the British provincial army, projected a journey across (the continent between the forty -third and forty- VOL. I.— 3 «. 1 34 Bdtorfa Ifv '•' V^ I a .if; If ^ sixth degrees of northern latitude to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. His objects were to ascer- tain the breadth of the continent at its broad- est part, and to determine on some place on the shores of the Pacific, where government might establish a post to facilitate the discovery of a northwest passage, or a communication between Hudson's Bay and the Pacific Ocean. This place he presumed would be somewhere about the Straits of Annian, at which point he supposed the Oregon disembogued itself. It was his opinion, also, that a settlement on this extremity of America would disclose new sources of trade, promote many useful discov- eries, and open a more direct communication with China and the English settlements in the East Indies, than that by the Cape of Good Hope or the Straits of Magellan.* This enter- prising and intrepid traveller was twice baffled in individual efforts to accomplish this great journey. In 1774 he was joined in the scheme by Richard Whitworth, a member of Parlia- ment, and a man of wealth. Their enterprise was projected on a broad and bold plan. They were to take with them fifty or sixty men, ar- tificers and mariners. With these they were to make their way up one of the branches of the Missouri, explore the mountains for the * Carver's Travels, Introd., b. iii. Philad., 1796. / » Aaclienaie's JOiecovcvice 35 source of the Oregon, or the River of the West, and sail down that river to its supposed exit, near the Straits of Annian. Here they were to erect a fort, and build the vessels neces- sary to carry their discoveries by sea into effect. Their plan had the sanction of the British gov- ernment, and grants and other requisites were nearly completed, when the breaking out of the American Revolution once more defeated the undertaking.* The expedition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in 1793, across the continent to the Pacific Ocean, which he reached in lat. 52® 20' 48", again suggested the possibility of linking together the trade of both sides of the conti- nent. In lat. 52° 30' he had descended a river for some distance which flowed towards the south, and was called by the natives Tacoutche Tesse, and which he erroneously supposed to be the Columbia. It was afterwards ascertained that it emptied itself in lat. 49**, whereas the mouth of the Columbia is about three degrees farther south. When Mackenzie some years subsequently published an account of his expeditions, he suggested the policy of opening an intercourse between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and forming regular establishments through the * Carver's Travels, p. 360. Philad., 1796. in i t ]' ' I H Bdtocia ( 1 > ! . 1 ■ ] 1 J i 1 h «, ('' * 1 ! \\: ^ ir ♦ f! t ^ ■ , interior and at both extremes, as well as along the coasts and islands. By this means, he observed the entire command of the fur trade of North America might be obtained from lat. 48** north, to the pole, excepting that portion held by the Russians, for as to the American adventurers who had hitherto enjoyed the traf- fic along the northwest coast, they would in- stantly disappear, he added, before a well regulated trade. A scheme of this kind, however, was too vast and hazardous for individual enterprise ; it could only be undertaken by a company under the sanction and protection of a govern- ment ; and as there might be a clashing of claims betvveen the Hudson's Bay and North- west Company, the one holding by right of charter, the other by right of possession, he proposed that the two companies should coalesce in this great undertaking. The long cherished jealousies of these two companies, however, were too deep and strong to allow them to lis- ten to such counsel. In the meantime the attention of the Ameri- can government was attracted to the subject, and the memorable expedition under Messrs. I hnlf civilized, half savage. They wear a capot or surcoat, made of a blanket, a striped cotton shirt, cloth t ows^^ , ( r leathern lee^gins, moc- casins ^t dei j-skit5. and a belt of variegated worsted, frc i ' v'>< .1; are suspended the knife, tobacco-pouch, and ci.rT implements. Their language is of the same piebald character, be- ing a French patois embroidered with Indian and English words and phrases. , The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild ' and extensive rovings, in the service of indi- viduals, but more especially of the fur traders. They are generally of French descent, and in- herit much of the gayety and lightness of heart of their ancestors, being full of anecdote and song, and ever ready for the dance. They inher- it, too, a fund of civility and complaisance ; and, instead of that hardness and grossness which men in laborious life are apt to indulge towards each other, they are mutually obliging and accommodating ; interchanging kind oflSces, yielding each other assistance and comfort in every emergency, and using the familiar appel- lations of ** cousin" and "brother" when there is in fact no relationship. Their natural good-will is probably heightened by a commu- Cbaractec(0tic0 o( tbe XOo^agcntB 11 iiity >f adventure and hardship in their precari- ous d wandering liff;. "N c men are more submissive t / their leaders and < mplr^yers, more capable of enduring hard- shijv or more good-humored under privations. Nevei are they so Happy as when on long and ror^h expeditions, toiling up rivers or coasting lakes ; encamping at night on the borders, gossiping round their fires, and bivouacking in the open air. They are dextrous boatmen, vig- orous and adroit with the oar and paddle, and will row from morning until night without a murmur. The steersman often sings an old traditionary French song, with some regular burden in which they all join, keeping time with their oars ; if at any time they flag in spirits or relax in exertion, it is but necessary to strike up a song of the kind to put them all in fresh spirits and activity. The Canadian waters are vocal with these little French chansons, that have been echoed from mouth to mouth and transmitted from father to son, from the earliest days of the colony ; and it has a pleas- ing effect, in a still golden summer evening, to see a batteau gliding across the bosom of a lake and dipping its oars to the cadence of these quaint old ditties, or sweeping along in fuM chorus on a bright sunny morning, down the transparent current of one of the Canada rivers. I iq '1 ,'] 84 2l0torla m i i \ 'I i Jul 1 .1^^ But we were talking of things that are fast fading away. The march of mechanical in- vention is driving everything poetical before it. The steamboats, which are fast dispelling the wildness and romance of our lakes and rivers, and aiding to subdue the world into commonplace, are pioving as fatal to the race of the Canadian voyageurs as they have been to that of the boatmen of the Missis- sippi. Their glory is departed. They are no longer the lords of our internal seas, and the great navigators of the wilderness. Some of them may still occasionally be seen coasting the lower lakes with their frail barks, and pitching their camps and lighting their fires upon the shores ; but their range is fast contracting to those remote waters and shal- low and obstructed rivers unvisited by the steamboat. In the course of years they will gradually disappear ; their songs will die away like the echoes they once awakened, and the Canadian voyageurs will become a forgotten race, or remembered, like their associates, the Indians, among the poetical images of past times, and as themes for local and romantic associations. An instance of the buoyant temperament and the professional pride of these people was fur- nished in the gay and braggart style in which y A JSoattnd anD Stn0tn0 ss they arrived at New York to join the enterprise. They were determined to regale and astonish the people of the " States " with the sight of a Canadian boat and a Canadian crew. They accordingly fitted up a large but light bark canoe, such as is used in the fur trade ; trans- ported it in a wagon from tht banks of the St. I^awrence to the shores of I,ake Champlain ; traversed the lake in it, from end to end ; hoisted it again in a wagon and wheeled it off to L i IS conceived and set on foot at his own risk and expense so great an enterprise. This step on the part of those gentlemen was not known to Mr. Astor until some time after- wards, or it might have modified the trust and confidence reposed in them. To guard against any interruption to the voyage by the armed brig, said to be off the harbor, Mr. Astor applied to Commodore Rod- gers, at that time commanding at New York, to give the Tonquin safe convoy off the coast. The commodore having received from a high official source assurance of the deep interest which the govCiUment took in the enterprise, sent directions to Captain Hull, at that time cruising off the harbor, in the frigate Constitu- tion, to afford the Tonquin the required pro- tection when she should put to sea. Before the day of embarkation, Mr. Astor addressed a letter of instruction to the four partners who were to sail in the ship. In this he enjoined them, in the most earnest manner, to cultivate harmony and unanimity, and re- commended that all differences of opinions on points connected with the objects and interests of the voyage should be discussed by the whole, and decided by a majority of votes. He,, moreover, gave them especial caution as to their conduct on arriving at their destined \K 1*1 parting Bdmonitions 59 f port ; exhorting them to be careful to make a favorable impression upon the wild people among whom their lot and the fortunes of the enterprise would be cast. " If you find them kind," said he, ** as I hope you will, be so to them. If otherwise, act with caution and for- bearance, and convince them that you come as friends." With the same anxious forethought he wrote a letter of instructions to Captain Thorn, in v/hich he urged the strictest attention to the health of himself and his crew, and to the pro- motion of good-humor and harmony on board his ship. "To prevent any misunderstand- ing," added he, " will require your particular good management. ' ' His letter closed with an injunction of wariness in his intercourse with the natives, a subject on which Mr. Astor was justly sensible he could not be too earnest. "I must recommend you," said he, "to be particularly careful on the coast, and not to rely too much on the friendly disposition of the natives. All accidents which have as yet happened there, arose from too much confidence in the Indians." The reader will bear these instructions in mind, as events will prove their wisdom and importance, and the disasters which ensued in consequence of the neglect of them. t !■ * . :m I * 1 Cbaptct ID. Sailing of the Tonquin — A Rigid Commander and a Reckless Crew — Landsmen on Shipboard — A Lab- rador Veteran — Literary Clerks — Curious Travellers — Robinson Crusoe's Island — Falkland Islands — Port Egmont — Old Mortality — Penguin Shooting — Arrival at Owyhee. 51 ON the eighth of September, 1810, the Tonquin put to sea, where she was soon joined by the frigate Constitu- tion. The wind was fresh and fair from the southwest, and the ship was soon out of sight of land and free from the apprehended danger of interruption. The frigate, therefore, gave her "God speed," and left her to her course. The harmony so earnestly enjoined by Mr. Astor on this heterogeneoTis crew, and w^hich had been so confidently promised in the buoy- ant moments of preparation, was doomed to meet with a check at the very outset. \ 60 III B l^fdiD Commander ''m Captain Thorn was an honest, straightfor- ward, but somewhat dry and dictatorial com- mander, who, having been nurtured in the system and discipline of a ship of war, and in a sacred opinion of the supremacy of the quar- ter-deck, was disposed to be absolute lord and master on board of his ship. He appears, moreover, to have had no great opinion, from the first, of the persons embarked with him. He had stood by with surly contempt while they vaunted so bravely to Mr. Astor of all they could do and all they could undergo ; how they could face all weathers, put up with all kinds of fare, and even eat dogs with a relish, when no better food was to be had. He had set them down as a set of landlubbers and braggadocios, and was disposed to treat them accordingly. Mr. Astor was, in his eyes, his only real employer, being the father of the en- terprise, who furnished all funds and bore all losses. The others were mere agents and sub- ordinates, who lived at his expense. He evi- dently had but a narrow idea of the scope arid nature of the enterprise, limiting his views merely to his part of it ; everything beyond the concerns of his ship was out of his sphere ; and anything that interfered with the routine of his nautical duties put him in a passion. The partners, on the other hand, had been ! iV Ji 4 i! i r h f !! n ■( 82 B0torta ; » complexion. The men are tall and well made, with forms indicating strength and activity ; the women with regular and occasionally hand- some features, and a lascivious expression, characteristic of their temperament. Their style of dress was nearly the same as in the days of Captain Cook. The men wore the maro, a band one foot in width and several feet in length, swathed round the loins, and formed of tappa, or cloth of bark ; the kihei, or man- tle, about six feet square, tied in a knot over one shoulder, passed under the opposite arm, so as to leave it bare, and falling in graceful folds before and behind, to the knee, so as to bear some resemblance to a Roman toga. The female dress consisted of the pau, a gar- ment formed of a piece of tappa, several yards in length and one in width, wrapped round the waist, and reaching like a petticoat, to the knees. Over this a kihei, or mantle, larger than that of the men, sometimes worn over both shoulders, like a shawl, sometimes over one only. These mantles were seldom worn by either sex during the heat of the day, when the exposure of their persons was at first very revolting to a civilized eye. Towards evening several of the partners and clerks went on shore, where they were well re- ceived and hospitably entertained. A dance ••V, f B pUgtimage 83 was performed for their amusement, in which nineteen young women and one man figured very gracefully, singing in concert, and moving to the cadence of their song. All this, however, was nothing to the pur- pose in the eyes of Captain Thorn, who, being disappointed in his hope of obtaining a supply of pork, or finding good water, was anxious to be oflF. This it was not so easy to effect. The passengers, once on shore, were disposed, as usual, to profit by the occasion. The partners had many inquiries to make relative to the island, with a view to business ; while the young clerks were delighted with the charms and graces of the dancing damsels. To add to their gratifications, an old man offcrvid to conduct them to the spot where Cap- tain Cook was massacred. The proposition was eagerly accepted, and all hands set out on a pilgrimage to the place. The veteran isl- ander performed his promise faithfully, and pointed out the very spot where the unfortu- nate discoverer fell. The rocks and cocoa- trees around bore record of the fact, in the marks of the balls fired from the boats upon the savages. The pilgrims gathered round the old man, and drew from him all the particu- lars he had to relate respecting this memorable event ; while the honest captain stood by and ! VI .\4 84 Betocla bit his nails with impatience. To add to his vexation, they employed themselves in knock- ing off pieces of the rocks, and cutting off the bark of the trees marked by the balls, which they conveyed back to the ship as precious relics. Right glad, therefore, was he to get them and their treasures fairly on board, when he made sail from this unprofitable place, and steered for the Bay of Tocaigh, the residence of the chief governor of the island, where he hoped to be more successful in obtaining sup- plies. On coming to anchor the captain went on shore accompanied by Mr. M'Dougal and Mr. M'Kay, and paid a visit to the governor. This dignitary proved to be an old sailor, by the name of John Young ; who, after being tossed about the seas like another Sindbad, had, by one of the whimsical freaks of fortune, been elevated to the government of a savage island. He received his visitors with more hearty familiarity than personages in his high station are apt to indulge, but soon gave them to understand that provisions were scanty at Tocaigh, and there was no good water, no rain having fallen in the neighborhood in three years. The captain was immediately for breaking up the conference and departing, but the part- 1 Oovernoc Ij^oung 85 ners were not so willing to part with the nau- tical governor, who seemed disposed to be ex- tremely communicative, and from whom they might be able to procure some useful informa- tion. A long conversation accordingly en- sued, in the course of which they made many inquiries about the affairs of the islands, their natural productions, and the possibility of turning them to advantage in the way of trade ; nor did they fail to inquire into the indi- vidual history of John Young, and how he came to be governor. This he gave with great condescension, running through the whole course of his fortunes ' * even from his boyish days." He was a native of Liverpool, in England, and had followed the sea from boyhood, until, by dint of good conduct, he had risen so far in his profession as to be boatswain of an Ameri- can ship called the Eleanor^ commanded by Captain Metcalf. In this vessel he had sailed in 1789, on one of those casual expeditions to the nortwest coast, in quest of furs. In the course of the voyage, the captain left a small schooner named Fair American y at Nootka, with a crew of five men, commanded by his son, a youth of eighteen. She was to follow on in the track of the Eleanor, In February, 1790, Captain Metcalf touched ih, III M a ii 86 B0toria at the island of Mowee, one of the Sandwich group. While anchored here, a boat which was astern of the Eleanor ^^^^s stolen, and a sea- man who was in it was killed. The natives, generally, disclaimed the outrage, and brought the shattered remains of the boat and the dead body of the seaman to the ship. Supposing that they had thus appeased the anger of the captain, they thronged, as usual, in great numbers about the vessel, to trade. Captain Metcalf, however, determined on a bloody re- venge. The Eleanor mounted ten guns. All these he ordered to be loaded with musket- balls, nails, and pieces of old iron, and then fired them, and the small arms of the ship, among the natives. The havoc was dreadful ; more than a hundred, according to Young's account, were slain. After this signal act of vengeance. Captain Metcalf sailed from Mowee, and made for the island of Owyhee, where he was well received by Tamaahmaah. The fortunes of this warlike chief were at that time on the rise. He had originally been of inferior rank, ruling over only one or two districts of Owyhee, but had gradually made himself sovereign of his native islands. The Eleanor remained some few days at anchor here, and an apparently friendly inter- \ Stotfi ot tbe Governor 87 course was kept up with the inhabitants. On the 17th March, John Young obtained permis- sion to pass the night on shore. On the fol- lowing morning a signal-gun summoned him to return on board. He went on shore to embark, but found all the canoes hauled up on the beach and rigor- ously tabooed, or interdicted. He would have launched one himself, but was informed by Tamaahmaah that if he presumed to do so he would be put to death. Young was obliged to submit and remained all day in great perplexity to account for thivS mysterious taboo, and fearful that some hostil- ity was intended. In the evening he learned the cause of it, and his uneasiness was in- creased. It appeared that the vindictive act of Captain Metcalf had recoiled upon his own head. The schooner Fair American^ com- manded by his son, following in his track, had fallen into the hands of the natives to the southward of Tocaigh Bay, and young Metcalf and four of the crew had been massacred. On receiving intelligence of this event, Tamaahmaah had immediately tabooed all the canoes, and interdicted all intercourse with the ship, lest the captain should learn the fate of the schooner, and take his revenge upon the island. For the same reason he prevented 1 .■-■^fc ■ f ttl li' ;• H 81 Batorfa I k- I Hi i ,i ml Young from rejoining his countrymen. Elea- nor continued to fire signals from time to time for two days, and then sailed ; concluding, no doubt, that the boatswain had deserted. John Young was in despair when he saw the ship make sail, and found himself abandoned among savages ; — and savages, too, sanguinary in their character, and inflamed by acts of hostil- ity. He was agreeably disappointed, however, in experiencing nothing but kind treatment from Tamaahmaah and his people. It is true, he was narrowly watched whenever a vessel came in sight, lest he should escape and relate what had passed; but at other times he was treated with entire confidence and great distinc- tion. He became a prime favorite, cabinet counsellor, and active coadjutor of Tamaah- maah, attending him in all his excursions, whether of business or pleasure, and aiding in his warlike and ambitious enterprises. By de- grees he rose to the rank of a chief, espoused one of the beauties of the island, and became habituated and reconciled to his new way of life ; thinking it better, perhaps, to rule among savages than serve atr Bdtotto .,!. i M anchor in the beautiful bay before the village of Waititi (pronounced Whyteetee), the abode of Tamaahmaah . This village contained about two hundred habitations, composed of poles set in the ground, tied together at the ends, and thatched with grass, and was situated in an open grove of cocoanuts. The royal palace of Tamaahmaah was a large house of two stories ; the lower of stone, the upper of wood. Round this his body-guard kept watch, composed of twenty-four men in long blue cassocks turned up with yellow, and each armed with a musket. While at anchor at that place, much cere- monious visiting and long conferences took place between the potentate of the islands and the partners of the company. Tamaahmaah came on board of the ship in royal style, in his double pirogue. He was between fifty and sixty years of age, above the middle size, large and well made, though somewhat corpulent. He was dressed in an old suit of regimentals, with a sword by his side, and seemed somewhat embarrassed by his magnificent attire. Three, of his wives accompanied him. They were almost as tall, and quite as corpulent as him- self ; but by no means to be compared with him in grandeur of habiliments, wearing no other garb than the pau. With him, also, came his great favorite and confidential counsellor, Krai- I r r *^ a IB :\, Vf?' B Vosal IDtdit 91 maker ; who, from holding a post equivalent to that of prime minister, had been familiarly named Billy Pitt by the British visitors to the islands. The sovereign was received with befitting ceremonial. The American flag was displayed, four guns were fired, and the partners appeared in scarlet coats, and conducted their illustrious guests to the cabin, where they were regaled with wine. In this interview the partners en- deavored to impress the monarch with a sense of their importance, and the importance of the association to which they belonged. They let him know that they were eris, or chiefs, of a great company about to be established on the northwest coast, and talked of the probability of opening a trade with his islands, and of sending ships there occasionally. All this was gratifying and interesting to him, for he was aware of the advantages of trade, and desirous of promoting frequent intercourse with white men. He encouraged Europeans and Ameri- cans to settle in his islands and intermarry with his subjects. There were between twenty and thirty white men at that time resident in the island, but many of them were mere vagabonds, who remained there in hopes of leading a lazy and an easy life. For such Tamaahmaah had a great contempt ; those only had his esteem I u !:; i U ' i^ > d^ I :ra 9t Betoria and countenance who knew some trade or me- chanic art, and were sober and industrious. On the day subsequent to the monarch's visit, the partners landed and waited upon him in return. Knowing the effect of show and dress upon men in savage life, and wishing to make a favorable impression as the eris, or chiefs, of the great American Fur Company, some of them appeared in Highland plaids and kilts, to the great admiration of the natives. While visits of ceremony and grand diplo- matic conferences were going on between the partn'='rs and the king, the captain, in his plain, ^ matter-of-fact way, was pushing what he con- sidered a far more important negotiation — the purchase of a supply of hogs. He found that the king had profited in more ways than one by his intercourse with white men. Above all other arts he had learned the art of driving a bargain. He was a magnanimous monarch, but a shrewd pork merchant ; and perhaps thought he could not do better with his future allies, the American Fu^ Company, than to begin by close dealing. Several interviews were requisite, and much bargaining, before he could be brought to part with a bristle of his bacon, and then he insisted upon being paid in hard Spanish dollars ; giving as a reason that he wanted money to purchase a frigate iff "8 prot^ieione Obtained n from his brother George, as he affectionately termed the King of England.* At length the royal bargain was concluded ; the necessary supply of hogs obtained, beside several goats, two sheep, a quantity of poul- * It appears from the accounts of subsequent voy- agers, that Tamaabmaah afterwards succeeded in his wish of purchasing a large ship. In this he sent a cargo of sandalwood to Canton, having discovered that the foreign merchants trading with him made large profits on this wood, shipped by them from the islands to the Chinese markets. The ship was manned by natives, but the officers were Englishmen. She accomplished her voyage, and returned in safety to the islands, with the Hawaiian flag floating gloriously in the breeze. The king hastened on board, expect- ing to find his sandalwood converted into crapes and damasks, and other rich stuffs of China, but found, to his astonishment, by the legerdemain of traffic, his cargo had all disappeared, and, in place of it, remained a bill of charges amounting to Ihree thousand dollars. It was some time before he could be made to compre- hend certain of the most important items of the bill, such as pilotage, anchorage, and custom-house fees ; but when he discovered that maritime states in other countries derived large revenues in this manner, to the great cost of the merchant, "Well," he cried, "then I will have harbor fees also." He established them accordingly. Pilotage a dollar a foot on the draft of each vessel. Anchorage from sixty to seventy dollars. In this way he greatly increased the royal revenue, and turned his China speculation to account. *f * I: i' I. lUm 94 Betoda Is i, l( i try, and vegetables in abundance. The part- ners now urged to recruit their forces from the natives of this island. They declared they had never seen watermen equal to them, even among the voyageurs of the Northwest ; and, indeed, they are remarkable for their skill in managing their light craft, and can swim and dive like waterfowl. The partners were in- clined, therefore, to take thirty or forty with them to the Columbia, to be employed in the service of the company. The captain, how- ever, objected that there was not room in his vessel for the accommodation of such a num- ber. Twelve, only, were therefore enlisted for the company, and as many more for the service of the ship. The former engaged to serve for the term of three years, during which they were to be fed and clothed ; and at the expira- tion of the time were to receive one hundred dollars in merchandise. And now, having embarked his live-stock, fruits, vegetables, and water, the captain made ready to set sail. How much the honest man had suffered in spirit by what he considered the freaks and vagaries of his passengers, and how little he had understood their humors and intentions, is amusingly shown in a letter writ- ten to Mr. Astor from Woahoo, which contains his comments on the scenes we have decribed. ®pinion0 of tbe Captain 98 II It would be difficult," he writes, '*to im- agine the frantic gambols that are daily played off here ; sometimes dressing in red coats, and otherwise very fantastically, and collecting a number of ignorant natives around them, tell- ing them that they are the great eares of the Northwest, and making arrangements for send- ing three or four vessels yearly to them from the coast with spars, etc. ; while those very natives cannot even furnish a hog to the ship. Then dressing in Highland plaids and kilts, and making similar arrangements, with pres- ents of rum, wine, or anything that is at hand. Then, taking a number of clerks and men on shore to the very spot on which Captain Cook was killed, and each fetching off a piece of the rock or tree that was touched by the shot. Then sitting down with some white man or some native who can be a little understood, and collecting the history of those islands, of Tamaahmaah's wars, the curiosities of the islands, etc., preparatory to the histories of their voyages ; and the collection is indeed ridiculously contemptible. To enumerate the thousand instances of ignorance, filth, etc., or to particularize all the frantic gambols that are daily practised, would require volumes." Before embarking, the great eris of the American Fur Company took leave of their \ n / 7\ nn 96 B0tocia illustrious ally in due style, with many pro- fessions of lasting friendship and promises of future intercourse ; while the matter-of-fact captain anathematized him in his heart for a grasping, traflScking savage ; as shrewd and sordid in his dealings as a white man. As one of the vessels of the company will, in the course of events, have to appeal to the justice and magnanimity of this island potentate, we shall see how far the honest captain was right in his opinion. ' 1 ^a^ ^r Cbapter Dfl. Departure from the Sandwich Islands — Misunder- standings — Miseries of a Suspicious Man — Arrival at the Columbia— Dangerous Service — Gloomy Ap- prehensions — Bars and Breakers — Perils of the Ship — Disasters of a Boat's Crew — Burial of a Sandwich Islander. IT was on the 28th of February that the Tonquin set sail from the Sandwich Isl- ands. For two days the wind was con- trary, and the vessel was detained in their neighborhood ; at length a favorable breeze sprang up, and in a little while the rich groves, green hills, and snowy peaks of those happy islands one after another sank from sight, or melted into the blue distance, and the Tonquin plowed her course towards the sterner regions of the Pacific. The misunderstandings between the captain and his passengers still continued ; or rather, increased in gravity. By his altercations and VOL. I.— 7 97 ii 1 ii 98 Bstoria 1 /,'. 'X h his moody humors, he had cut himself off from all community of thought, or freedom of con- versation with them. He disdained to ask any questions as to their proceedings, and could only guess at the meaning of their movements, and in so doing indulged in con- jectures and suspicions, which produced the most whimsical self-torment. Thus, in one of his disputes with them, relative to the goods on board, some of the packages of which they wished to open, to take out articles of clothing for the men or presents for the natives, he was so harsh and peremptory that they lost all patience, and hinted that they were the strongest party, and might reduce him to a very ridiculous dilemma, by taking from him the command. A thought now flashed across the captain's mind that they really had a design to depose him, and "^at, having picked up some infor- mation at Owyhee, possibly of war between the United States and England, they meant to alter the destination of the voyage ; perhaps to seize upon ship and cargo for their own use. Once having conceived this suspicion, every- thing went to foster it. They had distributed fire-arms among some of their men, a common precaution among the fur-traders when min- gling with the natives. This, however, looked Suspicions of tbe Captain 99 like preparation. Then several of the partners and clerks and some of the men, being Scots- men, were acquainted with the Gaelic, and held long conversations together in that lan- guage. These conversations were considered by the captain of a " mysterious and unwarranta- ble nature," and related, no doubt, to some foul conspiracy that was brewing among them. He frankly avows such suspicions, in his letter to Mr. Astor, but intimates that he stood ready to resist any treasonous outbreak ; and seems to think that the evidence of preparation on his part had an effect in overawing the con- spirators. The fact is, as we have since been informed by one of the parties, it was a mischievous pleasure with some of the partners and clerks, who were young men, to play upon the sus- picious temper and splenetic humors of the captain. To this we may ascribe many of their whimsical pranks and absurd propo- sitions, and, above all, their mysterious collo- quies in Gaelic. In this sore and irritable mood did the captain pursue his course, keeping a wary eye on every movement, and bristling up whenever the detested sound of the Gaelic language grated upon his ear. Nothing occurred, how- ever, materially to divSturb the residue of the i^i I v.\ [i .■ a f\ \: 4 I fl lOO Betoria voyage excepting a violent storm ; and on the twenty-second of March, the Tonqum arrived at the mouth of the Oregon, or Cohimbia River. The aspect of the river and the adjacent coast was wild and dangerous. The mouth of the Columbia is upwards of four miles wide with a peninsula and promontory on one side, and a long low spit of land on the other ; between which a sand-bar and a chain of breakers almost block up the entrance. The interior of the country rises into successive ranges of mountains, which, at the time of the arrival of the Tonquin^ were covered with snow. A fresh wind from the northwest sent a rough tumbling sea upon the coast, which broke upon the bar in furious surges, and extended a sheet of foam almost across the mouth of the river. Under these circumstances the captain did not think it prudent to approach within three leagues, until the bar should be sounded and the channel ascertained. Mr. Fox, the chief mate, was ordered to this service in the whaleboat, accompanied by John Martin, an old seaman, who had formerly visited the river, and by three Canadians. Fox requested to have regular sailors to man the boat, but the captain would not spare them from the service of the ship, and supposed the Canadians, being expert Bard and JSreafters lOI boatmen on lakes and rivers, were competent to the service, especially when directed and aided by Fox and Martin. Fox seems to have lost all firmness of spirit on the occasion, and to have regarded the service with a mis- giving heart. He came to the partners for sympathy, knowing their diflferences with the captain, and the tears were in his eyes as he represented his case. "lam sent off,*' said he, ** without seamen to man my boat, in boisterous weather, and on the most dangerous part of the northwest coast. My uncle was lost a few years ago on this same bar, and I am now going to lay my bones alongside of his." The partners sympathized in his appre- hensions, and remonstrated with the captain. The latter, however, was not to be moved. He had been displeased with Mr. Fox in the earlier part of the voyage, considering him indolent and inactive ; and probably thought his present repugnance arose from a want of true nautical spirit. The interference of the partners in the business of the ship, also, was not calculated to have a favorable effect on a stickler for authority like himself, especially in his actual state of feeling towards them. At one o'clock, p.m., therefore, Fox and his comrades set off in the whaleboat, which is represented as small in size, and crazy in con- \ i .i ' » . \'.i I If I 1 •' »?? !l. 'I! 'i i .; t? 102 B0toria ( f 1" dition. All eyes were strained after the little bark as it pulled for shore, rising and sinking with the huge rolling waves, until it entered, a mere speck, among the foaming breakers, and was soon lost to view. Evening set in, night succeeded and passed away, and morning returned, but without the return of the boat. As the wind had moderated, the ship stood near to the land, so as to command a view of the river's mouth. Nothing was to be seen but a wild chaos of tumbling waves breaking upon the bar, and apparently forming a foam- ing barrier from shore to shore. Towards night the ship again stood out to gain sea-room, and a gloom was visible in every countenance. The captain himself shared in the general anxiety, and probably repented of his per- emptory orders. Another weary and watchful night succeeded, during which the wind sub- sided, and the weather became serene. On the following day, the ship having drifted near the land, anchored in fourteen fathoms water, to the northward of the long peninsula or promontory which forms the north side of the entrance, and is called Cape Disappoint- ment. The pinnace was then manned, and two of the partners, Mr. David Stuart and Mr. M'Kay, set off in the hope of learning some- thing of the fate of the whaleboat. The surf, perilous Service 103 however, broke with such violence along the shore that they could find no landing place. Several of the natives appeared on the beach and made signs to them to row round the cape, but they thought it most prudent to return to the ship. The wind now springing up, the Tonquin got under way, and stood in to seek the chan- nel ; but was again deterred by the frightful aspect of the breakers, from venturing within a league. Here she hove-to ; and Mr. Mum- ford, the second mate, was despatched with four hands, in the pinnace, to sound across the channel until he should find four fathoms depth. The pinnace entered among the breakers, but was near being lost, and with difficulty got back to the ship. The captain insisted that Mr. Mumford had steered too much to the southward. He now turned to Mr. Aiken, an able mariner, destined to command the schooner intended for the coasting trade, and ordered him, together with John Coles, sailmaker, Stephen Weekes, armorer, and two Sandwich Islanders, to proceed ahead and take soundings, while the ship should follow under easy sail. In this way they proceeded until Aiken had ascertained the channel, when signal was given from the ship for him to return on board. He was then within pistol shot, but so furious was ■I '■ ] hi I ,- a ) '•• ii6 ) t ! .' ^ ■; 1' 'lis; s I:* [ I P ,; I i 104 BetorU the current, and tumultuous the breakers, that the boat became unmanageable, and was hur- ried away, the crew crying out piteously for assistance. In a few moments she could not be seen from the ship's deck. Some of the passengers climbed to the mizzen top, and beheld her still struggling to reach the ship ; but shortly after she broached broad- side to the waves, and her case seemed des- perate. The attention of those on board of the ship was now called to their own safety. They were in shallow water ; the vessel struck repeatedly, the waves broke over her, and there was danger of her foundering. At length she got into seven fathoms water, and the wind lulling and the night coming on, cast anchor. With the darkness their anxieties increased. The wind whistled, the sea roared, the gloom was only broken by the ghastlj^ glare of the foaming breakers, the minds of the seamen were full of dreary apprehensions, and some of them fancied they heard the cries of their lost comrades mingling with the uproar of the ele- ments. For a time, too, the rapidly ebbing tide threatened to sweep them from their precarious anchorage. At length the reflux of the tide, and the springing up of the wind, enabled them to quit their dangerous situation and take shelter in a small bay within Cape Disappoint- »f PI Meeltee tbe Bcmorec 105 ment, where they rode in safety during the residue of a stormy night, and enjoyed a brief interval of refreshing sleep. With the light of day returned their cares and anxieties. They looked out from the mast- head over a wild coast, and wilder sea, but could discover no trace of the two boats and their crews that were missing. Several of the natives came on board with peltries, but there was no disposition to trade. They were inter- rogated by signs after the lost boats, but could not understand the inquiries. Parties now went on shore and scoured the neighborhood. One of these was headed by the captain. They had not proceeded far when they beheld a person at a distance in civilized garb. As he drew near he proved to be Weekes, the armorer. There was a burst of joy, for it was hoped his comrades were near at hand. His story, however, was one of disaster. He and his companions had found it impossible to govern their boat, having no rudder, and being beset by rapid and whirling currents and boister- ous surges. After long struggling they had let her go at the mercy of the waves, tossing about, sometimes with her bow, sometimes with her broadside to the surges, threatened each instant with destruction, yet repeatedly escap- ing, until a huge sea broke over and swamped ^ I'M 1 io6 Bdtoria f^! u !:1 r ' I i 1; ■i her. Weekes was overwhelmed by the boiling waves, but emerging above the surface, looked round for his companions. Aiken and Coles were not to be seen ; near him were the two Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing that they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the boat floating near to him he seized hold of it. The two islanders joined him, and, uniting their forces, they succeeded in turning the boat upon her keel ; then bearing down her stern and rocking \ her, they forced out so much water that she was able to bear the weight of a man without sinking. One of the islanders now got in, and in a little while bailed out the water with his hands. The other swam about and collected the oars, and th_y all three got once more on board. By this time the tide had swept them be- yond the breakers, and Weekes called on his companions to row for land. They were so chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they lost all heart, and absolutely refused. Weekes was equally chilled, but had superior sagacity and self-command. He counteracted the tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold produces by keeping himself in constant , exercise ; and seeing that the vessel was ad- vancing, and that everything depended upon / »! Zbc iRntortunate Idlander 107 himself, he set to work to scull the boat clear of the bar, and into quiet water. Towards midnight one of the poor islanders expired : his companion threw himself on his corpse and could not be persuaded to leave him. The dismal night wore away amidst these hor- rors : as the day dawned, Weekes found him- self near the land. He steered directly for it, and at length, with the aid of the surf, ran his boat high upon a sandy beach. Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of life, he aided him to leave the boat, and set out with him towards the adjacent woods. The poor fellow, however, was too feeble to follow him, and Weekes was soon obliged to abandon him to his fate and provide for his own safety. Falling upon a beaten path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came to a part of the coast, where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld the ship at anchor and was met by the captain and his party. After Weekes had related his adventures, three parties were despatched to beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate islander. They returned at night without success, though they had used the utmost diligence. On the following day the search was resumed, and the poor fellow was at length discovered I » ! 1 * h ' :( If :ii ' < io6 Betoria lying beneath a group of rocks, his legs swollen, his feet torn and bloody from walking through bushes and briers, and himself half- dead with cold, hunger, and fatigue. Weekes and this islander were the only survivors of the crew of the jolly-boat, and no trace was ever discovered of Fox and his party. Thus eight men were lost on the first approach to the coast ; a commencement that cast a gloom over the spirits of the whole party, and was regarded by some of the superstitious as an omen that boded no good to the enterprise. Towards night the Sandwich Islanders went on shore, to bury the body of their unfortunate countryman who had perished in the boat. On arriving at the place where it had been left, they dug a grave in the sand, in which they deposited the corpse, with a biscuit under one of the arms, some lard under the chin, and a small quantity of tobacco, as provisions for ks journey in the land of spirits. Having cov- ered the body with sand and flints, they kneeled along the grave in a double row, with their faces turned to the east, while one who officiated as a priest sprinkled them with water from a hat. In so doing he recited a kind of prayer or invocation, to which, at intervals, the others made responses. Such were the simple rites performed by these poor savages L.'^ndwfcb l0landec'0 3BuriaI 109 at the grave of their comrade on the shores of a strange land ; and when these were done, they rose and returned in silence to the ship, without once casting a look behind. i 111 I u ^M^^'^ ipi I J l!''^ I: Chapter Mirir. Mouth of the Columbia — The Native Tribes — Search for a Trading Site — Expedition of M'Dougal and David Stuart— Comcomly, the One-eyed Chieftain — An Aristocracy of Flatheads— Hospitality among the Chinooks — Comcomly 's Daughter — Her Con- quest. HE Columbia, or Oregon, for the dis- tance of thirty or forty miles from its entrance into the sea, is, properly speaking, a mere estuary, indented by deep bays so as to vary from three to seven miles in width ; and is rendered extremely in- tricate and dangerous by shoals reaching nearly from shore to shore, on which, at times, the winds and currents produce foaming and tumultuous breakers. The mouth of the river proper is but about half a mile wide, formed by the contracting shores of the estuary. The entrance from the sea, as we have already observed, is bounded on the south side by a liO Ji r /boutb of tbe Columbia III flat sandy spit of land, stretching into the ocean. This is commonly called Point Adams. The opposite, or northern side, is Cape Disap- pointment ; a kind of peninsula, terminating in a steep knoll or promontory cr'^wned with a forest of pine-trees, and connected with the mainland by a low and narrow neck. Immedi- ately within this cape is a wide, open bay, ter- minating at Chinook Point, so called from a neighboring tribe of Indians. This was called Baker's Bay, and here the Tonquin was an- chored. The natives inhabiting the lower part of the river, and with whom the company was likely to have the most frequent intercourse, were divided at this time into four tribes, the Chi- nooks, Clatsops, Wahkiacums, and Cathla- mahs. They resembled each other in person, dress, language, and manner ; and were prob- ably from the same stock, but broken into tribes, or rather hordes, by those feuds and schisms frequent among Indians. These people generally live by fishing. It is true they occasionally hunt the elk and deer, and ensnare the water-fowl of their ponds and rivers, but these are casual luxuries. Their chief subsistence is derived from the salmon and other fish which abound in the Columbia and its tributary streams, aided by roots and » i fi7 w 112 Bstoria (i i ti ; S liorbs, especially the wappatoo, which is found Oil the island of the river. As the Indians of the plains who depend upon the chase are bold and expert riders, and pride themselves upon their horses, so these piscatory tribes of the coast excel in the man- agement of canoes, and are never more at home than when riding upon the waves. Their canoes vary in form and size. Some are up- wards of fifty feet long, cut out of a single tree, either fir or white cedar, and capable of carry- ing thirty persons. They ha^^e thwart pieces from side to side about three inches thick, and their gunwales flare outwards, so as to cast off the surges of the waves. The bow and stern are decorated with grotesque figures of men and animals, sometimes five feet in height. In managing their canoes they kneel two and two along the bottom, sitting on their heels, and wielding paddles from four to five feet long, while one sits on the stern and steers with a paddle of the same kind. The women are equally expert with the men in managing the canoe, and generally take the helm. It is surprising to see with what fearless unconcern these savages venture in their light barks upon tl e roughest and most tempestuous seas. They s:^em to ride upon the waves like f)untfnd and fiebim f nDians "3 sea-fowl. Should a surge throw the canoe upon its side and endanger its overturn, those to windward lean over the upper gunwale, thrust their paddles deep into the wave, appar- ently catch the water and force it under the canoe, and by this action not merely regain an equilibrium, but give their bark a vigorous impulse forward. The effect of different modes of life upon the human frame and human character is strik- ingly instanced in the contrast between the hunting Indians of Lhe prairies, and the pis- catory Indians of the sea-coast. The former, continually on horseback scouring the plains, gaining their food by hardy exercise, and sub- sisting chiefly on flesh, are generally tall, sin- ewy, meagre, but well formed, and of bold and fierce deportment : the latter, lounging about the river banks, or squatting and curved up in their canoes, are generally low in stature, ill- shaped, with crooked legs, thick ankles, and broad, flat feet. They are inferior also in muscular power and activity, and in g-ame qualities and appearance, to their hard-riding brethren of the prairies. Having premised these few particulars con- cerning the neighboring Indians, we wIH re- turn to the immediate concerns of the Tonquin and her crew. ' i • f -^ - 1 ti A A VOL. I. i! 114 Betocfa '\ t f' / i Further search was made for Mr. Fox and his party, with no better success, and they were at length given up as lost. In the mean- time, the captain and some of the partners explored the river for some distance in a large boat, to select a suitable place for the trading post. Their old jealousies and differences con- tinued ; they never could coincide in their choice, and the captain objected altogether to any site so high up the river. They all re- turned, therefore, to Baker's Bay in no very good humor. The partners proposed to exam- ine the opposite shore, but the captain was impatient of any further delay. His eager- ness to "get on" had increased upon him. He thought all these excursions a sheer loss of time, and v/as resolved to land at once, build a shelter for the reception of that part of his cargo destined for the use of the settlement, and, having cleared his ship of it and of his irksome shipmates, to depart upon the prosecu- tion of his coasting voyage, according to orders. On the following day, therefore, without troubling himself to consult the partners, he landed in Baker's Bay, and proceeded to erect a shed for the reception of the rigging, v^quip- ments, and stores of the schooner that was to be built for the use of the settlement. This dogged determination on the part of s ' Selecting a Site fX| rt of the sturdy captain gave high oflfence to Mr. M'Dougal, who now considered himself at the head of the concern, as Mr. Astor's representa- tive and proxy. He set off the same day, (April 5th), accompanied by Mr. David Stuart, for the southern shore, intending to be back by the 7th. Not having the captain to contend with, they soon pitched upon a spot which appeared to them favorable for the intended establishment. It was on a point of land called Point George, having a very good harbor, where vessels, not exceeding two hundred tons burden, might anchor within fifty yards of the shore. After a day thus profitably spent, they re- crossed the river, but landed *^ the northern shore several miles above the anchoring ground of the Tonquttiy in the neighborhood of Chi- nook, and visited the village of that tribe. Here they were received with great hospitality by the chief, who was named Comcomly, a shrewd old savage, with but one eye, who will occasionally figure in tlii-^ narrative. Kach vil- lage forms a petty sovereignty, governed by its own chief, who, however, possesses but little authority, unless he be a man of wealth and substance ; that is to say, possessed of canoes, slaves, and wives. The greater the number of these, the greater is the chief. How many * i > i ! I K ;l. M '\ ■\ \ , ■ ' ■ 1 *i ' i I ,}- (W li i* ^ V. n^ Bstorfa n wives this one-eyed potentate maintained we are not told, but he certainly possessed great sway, not merely over his own tribe, but over the neighborhood. Having mentioned slaves, we would observe that slavery exists among several of the tribes beyond the Rocky Mountains. The slaves are well treated while in good health, but occupied in all kinds of drudgery. Should they become useless, however, by sickness or old age, they are totally neglected, and left to perish ; nor is any respect paid to their bodies after death. A singular custom prevails, not merely among the Chinooks, but among most of the tribes about this part of the coast, which is the flattening of the forehead. The process by which this deformity is effected commences immediately after birth. The infant is laid in a wooden trough, by way of cradle. The end on which the head reposes is higher than the rest. A padding is placed on the forehead of the infant, with a piece of bark above it, and is pressed down by cords, which pass through holes on each side of the trough. As the tightening of the padding and the pressing of the head to the board is gradual, the process is said not to be attended with much pain. The appearance of the infant, however, while in this st?.^ of compression, is whimsically hide- ous, "be dag( trap A] duce time comj life. flatte aristc of the At an is per upon round Wit partnt ably. his off that tl compa quick-i somew immed: the frie He reg; ability, too. T Indian 1)O0pitaUt!S "7 ous, and ** its little black eyes," we are told, ' * being forced out by the tightness of the ban- dages, resemble those of a mouse choked in a trap." About a year's pressure is sufficient to pro- duce the desired effect, at the end of which time the child emerges from its bandages a complete flathead, and continues so through life. It must be noted, however, that this flattening of the head has something in it of aristocratical significancy, like the crippling of the feet among the Chinese ladies of quality. At any rate, it is a sign of freedom. No slave is permitted to bestow this enviable deformity upon his child; all the slaves, therefore, are roundheads. With this worthy tribe of Chinooks the two partners passed a part of the day very agree- ably. M'Dougal, who was somewhat vain of his official rank, had given it to be understood that they were two chiefs of a great trading company, about to be established here, and the quick-sighted, though one-eyed chief, who was somewhat practised in traffic with white men, immediately perceived the policy of cultivating the friendship of two such important visitors. He regaled them, therefore, to the best of hiS ability, with abundance of salmon and wappa- too. The next morning, April 7th, they pre- 1) -.1 \ f ' ! W ii8 Betorta ir m ri^ ( :' pared to return to the vessel, according to promise. They had eleven miles of open bay to traverse ; the wind was fresh, the waves ran high. Comcomly remonstrated with them on the hazard to which they would be exposed. They were resolute, however, and launched their boat, while the wary chieftain followed at some distance in his canoe. Scarce had they rowed a mile, when a wave broke over their boat and upset it. They were in imminent peril of drowning, especially Mr. M'Dougal, who could not swim. Comcomly, however, came bounding over the waves in his light canoe, and snatched them from a watery grave. .* ;. They were taken on shore and a fire made, at which they dried their clothes, after which Comcomly conducted them back to his village. Here everything was done that could be devised for their entertainment during three days that they were detained by bad weather. Com- comly made his people perform antics before them ; and his wives and daughters endeavored, by all the soothing and endearing arts of women, to find favor in their eyes. Some even painted their bodies with red clay, and anointed themselves with fish oil, to give addi- tional lustre to their charms. Mr. M'Dougal geems to have had a heart susceptible to the . I ! Comcomljs'd Wmgbtct 119 influence of the gentler sex. Whether or no it was first touched on this occasion we do not learn ; but it will be found, in the course of this work, that one of the daughters of the hospitable Conicomly eventually made a con- quest of the great eri of the American Fur Company. When the weather had moderated and the sea become tranquil, the one-eyed chief of the Chinooks manned his state canoe, and con- ducted his guests in safety to the ship, where they were welcomed with joy, for apprehen- sions had been felt for their safety. Conicomly and his people were then entertained on board of the Tonqiibi^ and liberally rewarded for their hospitality and services. They returned home highly satisfied, promising to remain faithful friends and allies of the white men. % ■I II p ,vi I i' I-' I 1 '\ !^t ' V ^ <^' i1 l\ >i: ■?■'■ ■ Cbaptcr If. Point George — Founding of Astoria — Indian Visitors — Their Reception — ^The Captain Taboos the Ship — Departure of the Tonquin — Comments on the Conduct of Cf .ptain Thorn. , FROM the report made by the two explor- ing partners, it was determined that Point George should be the site of the trading house. These gentlemen, it is true, were not perfectly satisfied with the place and were desirous of continuing their seaich ; but Captain Thorn was impatient to land his cargo and continue his voyage, and protested against any more of what he termed * * sporting excursions." Accordingly, on the 12th of April, the launch was freighted with all things necessary for the purpose, and sixteen persons departed in her to commence the establishment, leaving the Tonquin to follow as soon as the harbor could be sounded. \ \ X20 jf ouuOitid of BiJtocia 121 Crossing the wide mouth of the river, the party landed, and encamped at the bottom of a small bay within Point George. The situation chosen for the fortified post was on an elevation facing to the north, with the wide estuary, its sand bars and tumultuous breakers spread out before it and the promontory of Cape Disap- pointment, fifteen miles distant, closing the prospect to the left. The surrounding country was in all the freshness of spring ; the trees were in the young leaf, the weather was superb, and everything looked delightful to men just emancipated from a long confinement on ship- board. The Tonquin shortly afterwards made her way through the intricate channel, and came to anchor in the little bay, and was saluted from the encampment with three volleys of musketry and three cheers. She returned the salute with three cheers and three guns. All hands now set to work cutting down trees, clearing away thickets, and marking out the place for the residence, store-house, and powder magazine, which were to be built of logs and covered with bark. Others landed the timbers intended for the frame of the coast- ing vessel, and proceeded to put them together, while others prepared a garden spot, and sowed the seeds of various vegetables. ; » ^i I .t >j I'i <\ II- 122 Betorfa 'f I The next thought was to give a name to the embryo metropolis : the one that naturally presented itself was that of the projector and supporter of the whole enterprise. It was accordingly named Astoria. The neighboring Indians now swarmed about the place. Some brought a few land- otter and sea-otter skins to barter, but in very scanty parcels ; the greater number came prying about to gratify their curiosity, for they are said to be impertinently inquisitive ; while not a few came with no other design than to pilfer ; the laws of meum and timm being but slightly respected among them. Some of them beset the ship in their canoes, among whom was the Chinook chief Comcomly, and his liege subjects. These were well received by Mr. M'Dougal, who was delighted with an oppor- tunity of entering upon his functions, and acquiring importance in the eyes of his neigh- bors. The confusion thus produced on board, and the derangement of the cargo caused by this petty trade, stirred the spleen of the cap- tain, who had a sovereign contempt for the one-eyed chieftain and all his crew. He com- plained loudly of having his ship lumbered by a host of "Indian ragamufl&ns," who had not a skin to dispose of, and at length put his posi- tive interdict upon all trafficking on board. \ TTpon c'slah when his di Th( ers sti by let elapse recept thesh tain \^ variou or the sponde bitterl} sportin tring e ing m< stead o these j the sat of all pi for the left free Astl trade f( to toucl tumn, i M'Kay '•* Detention of tbc " donqutn '' 123 Upon this Mr. M'Dougal was fain to land, and establish his quarters at the encampment, where he could exercise his rights and enjoy his dignities without control. The feud, however, between these rival pow- ers still continued, but was chiefly carried on by letter. Day after day and week after week elapsed, yet the store-house requisite for the reception of the cargo was not completed, and the ship was detained in port, while the cap- tain was teased by frequent requisitions, for various articles for the use of the establishment, or the trade with the natives. An angr corre- spondence took place, in which he complained bitterly of the time wasted in ' ' smoking and sporting parties," as he termed the reconnoi- tring expeditions, and in clearing and prepar- ing meadow ground and turnip patches, in- stead of despatching his ship. At length all these jarring matters were adjusted, if not to the satisfaction, at least to the acquiescence of all parties. The part of the cargo destined for the use of Astoria was landed, and the ship left free to proceed on her voyage. As the To7iquin was to coast to the north, to trade for peltries at the different harbors, and to touch at Astoria on her return in the au- tumn, it was unanimously determined that Mr. M'Kay should go in her as supercargo, taking \ jj I 1 : I : •, I !'! W I [': ti ii ■' v! Mi t * ^'t m ■■1^ M ft 124 B0totfa '•i'^'' 1 1 u with him Mr. Lewis as ship's clerk. On the ist of June the ship got under way, and dropped down to Baker's Bay, where she was detained for a few days by a head wind ; but early in the morning of the 5th stood out to sea with a fine breeze and STvelling canvas, and swept off gaily on her fatal voyage, from which she was never to return ! On reviewing the conduct of Captain Thorn, and examining his peevish and somewhat whimsical correspondence, the impression left upon our mind is, upon the whole, decidedly in his favor. While we smile at the simplicity of his heart and the narrowness of his views, wiiich made him regard everything out of the direct path of his daily duty, and the rigid exigencies of the service, as trivial and imper- tinent, \''hich inspired him with contempt for the swelling vanity of some of his coadjutors, and the literary exercises and curious re- searches of others, we cannot but applaud that strict and conscientious devotion to the inter- ests of his employer, and to what he consid- ered the true objects of the enterprise in which he was engaged. He certainly was to blame occasionally for the asperity of his manners, and the arbitrary nature of his measures, yet much that is exceptionable in this part of his conduct may be traced to the rigid notions of \ 'Remarlta on Captain tTbocn 125 duty acquired in that tyraniiical school, a ship of war, and to the construction given by his companions to the orders of Mr. Astor, so little in conformity with his own. His mind, too, appears to have become almost diseased by the suspicions he had formed as to the loyalty of his associates, and the nature of their ultimate designs ; yet on this point there were circum- stances to, in some measure, justify him. The relations between the United States and Great Britain were at that time in a critical state ; in fact, the two countries were on the eve of a war. Several of the partners were British subjects, and might be ready to desert the flag under which they acted, should a war take place. Their application to the British minister at New York shows the dubious feel- ing with which they had embarked in the pres- ent enterprise. They had been in the employ of the Northwest Company, and might be dis- posed to rally again under that association, should events threaten the prosperity of this embryo establishment of Mr, Astor. Besides, we have the fact, averred to us by one of the partneis, that some of them, who were young and heedless, took mischievous and unwarrant- able pleasure in playing upon the jealous tem- per of the captain, and affecting mysterious consultations and sinister movements. i 1 *' I , ■ ■ ;! i ■T ..I \ \ f y ( i i ' 1 1 If ' f isH I 126 B0tcria These circumstances are cited in palliation of the doubts and surmises of Captain Thorn, which might otherwise appear strange and un- reasonable. That most of the partners were perfectly upright and faithful in the dis- charge of the trust reposed in them we are fully satisfied ; still the honest captain was not invariably wrong in his suspicions ; and that he formed a pretty just opinion of the integrity of that aspiring personage, Mr. M'Dougal. will be substantially proved in the sequel. 1 •/ /-', V Ui k . I Cbaptcr f . Disquieting Rumors from the Interior— Preparations for a Trading Post- -A Spy in the Camp — Expedi- tion into the Interior — Shores of the Columbia — Mount Coffin — Columbian Valley — Vancouver's Point— Tht Village of Wish-ram— Posts Estab- lished at the Oakinagan. WHII^E the Astorians were busily oc- cupied in completing their factory and fort, a report was brought to them by an Indian from the upper part of the river, that a partj'^ of thirt3;' white men had appeared on the banks of the Colum- bia, and were actually^uilding houses at the second rapids. This information caused much disquiet. We have already mentioned that the Northwest Company had established posts to the west of the Rocky Mountains, in a dis- trict called by them New Caledonia, which extended from lat. 52° to 55° north, being within the British territories. It was now 127 Ui^i] 1 1 'I ib M I i R s »! V I! I! ill I 128 Betotfa apprehended that they were advancing within the American limits, and were endeavoring to seize upon the upper part of the river and forestall the American Fur Company in the surrounding trade ; in which v?ase bloody feuds might be anticipated, such as had prevailed between the rival fur companies in former days. A reconnoitring party was sent up the river to ascertain the truth of the report. They ascended to the foot of the first rapid, about two hundred miles, but could hear nothing of any white men being in the neighborhood. Not long after their return, howcTfer, further accounts were received, by two wandering Indians, which established the fact, that the Northwest Company had actually erected a trading-house on the Spokan River, which falls into the north branch of the Columbia. What rendered this intelligence the more disquieting, was the inability of the Astorians, in their present reduced state as to numbers, and the exigencies of their new establishment, to furnish detachments to penetrate the country in different directions, and fix the posts neces- sary to secure the interior trade. It was resolved, however, at any rate, to advance a counter-check to this post on the Spokan, and one of the partners, Mr. David Stuart, prepared to set out for the purpose with K \ ' ''i i Bn TIlnespecteD Bctival Its) a to the Lvid dth eight men and a small assortment of goods. He was to be guided by the two Indians, who knew the country, and promised to take him to a place not far from the Spokan River, and in a neighborhood abounding with beaver. Here he was to establish himself and to remain for a time, provided he found the situation advantageous and the natives friendly. On the 15th of July, when Mr. Stuart was nearly ready to embark, a canoe made its appearance, standing for the harbor, and manned by nine white men. Much speculation took place who these strangen^ could be, for it was too soon to expect their own people, under Mr. Hunt, who were to cross the conti- nent. As the canoe drew near, the British standard was distinguished : on coming to land, one of the crew stepped on shore, and announced himself as Mr. David Thompson, astronomer, and partner of the Northwest Company. According to his account, he had set out in the preceding year with a tolerably strong party, and a supply of Indian goods, to cross the Rocky Mountains. A part of his people, however, had deserted him on the east- ern side, and returned with the goods to the nearest Northwest post. He had persisted in crossing the mountains with eight men, who had remained true to him. They had traversed i^ VOL. 1. ■■; i t , I i; m ij 130 Batoria the higher regions, and ventured near the source of the Columbia, where, in the spring, they had constructed a cedar canoe, the same in which they had reached Astoria. This, in fact, was the party despatched by the Northwest Company to anticipate Mr. Astor in his intention of effecting a settlement at the mouth of the Columbia River. It appears from information subsequently derived from other sources, that Mr. Thompson had pushed on his course with great haste, calling at all the Indian villages in his march, presenting them with British flags, and even planting them at the forks of the rivers, proclaiming formally that he took possession of the country in the name of the King of Great Britain for the Northwest Company. As his original plan was defeated by the desertion of his people, it is probable that he descended the river simply to reconnoitre, and ascertain whether an Ameri- can settlement had been commenced. Mr. Thompson was, no doubt, the first white man who descended the northern branch of the Columbia from so near its source. Lewis and Clarke struck the main body of the river at the forks, about four hundred miles from its mouth. They en1;ered it from Lewis River, its southern branch, and thence descended. Though Mr. Thompson could be considered v^ '■ i Bspedition to tbe f ntecior I3» lite of ds rer its its red as little better than a spy in the camp, he was received with great cordiality by Mr. M'Dou- gal, who had a lurking feeling of companion- ship and good-will for all of the Northwest Company. He invited him to headquarters, where lie and his people were hospitably enter- tained. Nay, further, being somewhat in extremity, he was furnished by Mr. M'Dougal with goods and provisions for his journey back, across the mountains, much against the wishes of Mr. David Stuart, who did not think the object of his visit entitled him to any favor. On the 23d of July, Mr. Stuart set out upon his expedition to the interior. His party con- sisted of four of the clerks, Messrs. Pillet, Ross, M'Lennon, and Montigny, two Canadian voyageursy and two natives of the Sandwich Islands. They had three canoes well laden with provisions, and with goods and necessa- ries for a trading establishment. Mr. Thompson and his party set out in com- pany with them, it being his intention to pro- ceed direct to Montreal. The partners at Astoria forwarded by him a short letter to Mr. Astor informing him of their safe arrival at the mouth of the Columbia, and that they had not yet heard of Mr. Hunt. The little squadron of canoes set sail with a favorable breeze, and soon passed Tongue Point, a long, high, and I: i ■ n ! >; S 1 rtl:H 132 Betoria » i't rocky promontory, covered with trees, and stretching far into the river. Opposite to this, on the northern shore, is a deep bay, where the Columbia anchored at the time of the dis- covery, and which is still called Gray's Bay, from the name of her commander. T^rom hence, the general course of the river for about seventy mUes, was nearly southeast ; varying in breadth according to its bays and indentations, and navigable for vessels of three hundred tons. The shores were in some places high and rocky, with low marshy islands at i their feet, subject to inurdation, and covered with willows, poplars, and other trees that love an alluvial soil. Sometimes the moun- tains receded, and gave place to beautiful plains and noble forests. While the river margin was richly fringed with trees of decid- uous foliage, the rough uplands were crowned by majestic pines, and firs of gigantic size, some towering to the height of between two and three hundred feet, with proportionate circumference. Out of these the Indians wrought their great canoes and pirogues. At one part of the river, they pr.ssed, on the northern side, an isolated rock, about one hundred and fifty feet high, rising from a low marshy soil, and totally disconnected with the adjacent mountains. This was held in great Indtan Sepulture 133 ow the eat reverence by the neighboring Indians, being one of their principal places of sepulture. The same provident care for the deceased that pre- vails among the hunting tribes of the prairies is observable among the piscatory tribes of the rivers and sea-coast. Among the former, the favorite horse of the hunter is buried with him in the same funeral mound, and his bow and arrows ?re laid by his side, that he may be perfectly equipped for the "happy hunting grounds" of the land of spirits. Among the latter, the Indian is wrapped in his mantle of skins, laid in his canoe, with his paddle, his fishing spear, and other implements beside him, and placed aloft on some rock or other eminence overlooking the river, or bay, or lake, that he has frequented. He is thus fitted out to launch away upon those placid streams and sunny lakes stocked with all kinds of fish and water- fowl, which are prepared in the next world for those who have acquitted themselves as good sons, good fathers, good husbands, and, above all, good fishermen, dur- ing their mortal sojourn. The isolated rock in question presented a spectacle of the kind, numerous dead bodies being deposited in canoes on its summit ; while on poles around were trophies, or, rather, funeral offerings of trinkets, garments, baskets H ' t-' r im m II J i ) '. ' it ( I m ^l^i ii " IS ' i Li l' 1'"^ -M '* ! ■ I ■a 134 Betoria of roots, and other articles for the use of the deceased. A reverential feeling protects these sacred spots from robbery or insult. The friends of the deceased, especially the women, repair here at sunrise and sunset for some time after his death, singing his funeral dirge, and uttering loud wailings and lamentations. From the number of dead bodies in canoes observed upon this rock by the first explorers of the river, it received the name of Mount Coffin, which it continues to bear. Beyond this rock they passed the mouth of a river on the right bank of the Columbia, which appeared to take its rise in a distant mountain covered with snow. The Indian name of this river was the Cowleskee. Some miles farther on they came to the great Columbian Valley, so called by I^ewis and Clarke. It is sixty miles in width, and extends far to the southeast between parallel ridges of mountains, which bound it on the east and west. Through the centre of this valley flowed a large and beauti- ful stream, called the Wallamot,* which came wandering for several hundred miles, through a yet unexplored wilderness. The sheltered situation of this immense valley had an obvious effect upon the climate. It was a region of * Pronounced Walldmot, accent being upon the second syllable. ! U Sbore0 o( tbc Columbta 135 great beauty and luxuriance, with lakes and pools, and green meadows sliaded by noble groves. Various tribes were said to reside in this valley, and along the banks of the Walla- mot. About eight miles above the mouth of the Wallamot the little squadron arrived at Van- couver's Point, so called in honor of that celebrated voyager by his lieutenant (Brough- ton) when he explored the river. This point is said to present one of the most beautiful scenes on the Columbia ; a lovely meadow, with a silver sheet of limpid water in the centre enlivened by wild-fowl, a range of hills crowned by forests, while the prospect is closed by Mount Hood, a magnificent mountain rising into a lofty peak, and covered with snow ; the ultimate landmarks of the first explorers of the river. Point Vancouver is about one hundred miles from Astoria. Here the reflux of the tide ceases to be perceptible. To this place vessels of two and three hundred tons burden may ascend. The party under the command of Mr. Stuart had been three or four days in reaching it, though we have forborne to notice their daily progress and nightly encampments. From Point Vancouver the river turned tow- ards the northeast, and became more contracted i k ii I M, i ' I E *^ Ikvhu , t - • \^ 136 Betoria :> ( and rapid, with occasional islands and frequent sand-banks. These islands are furnished with a number of ponds, and at certain seasons abound with swans, geese, brandts, cranes, gulls, plover, and other wild-fowl. The shores, too, are low and closely wooded, and such an undergrowth of vines and rushes as to be almost impassable. About thirty miles above Point Vancouver the mountains again approach on both sides of the river, which is bordered by stupendous precipices, covered with the fir and the white ce- dar, and enlivened occasionally by beautiful cas- cades leaping from a great height, and sending up wreaths of vapor. One of these precipices, or cliffs, is curiously worn by time and weather so as to have the appearance of a ruined for- tress, with towers and battlements beetling high above the river, while two small cascades, one hundred and fifty feet in height, pitch down from the fissures of the rocks. The turbulence and rapidity of the current continually augmenting as they advanced, gave the voyagers intimation that they were ap- proaching the great obstructions of the river, and at length they arrived at Strawberry Isl- and, so called by L,ewis and Clarke, which lies at the foot of the first rapid. As this part of the Columbia will be repeatedly mentioned in the i ' I lalld and Itapide 137 the course of this work, being the scene of some of its incidents, we shall give a general description of it in this place. The falls or rapids of the Columbia are situ- ated above one hundred and eighty miles above the mouth of the river. The first is a perpen- dicular cascade of twenty feet, after which there is a swift descent for a mile, between islands of hard black rock, to another pitch of eight feet divided by two rocks. About two and a half miles below this river expands into a wide basin, seemingly dammed up by a perpendicular ridge of black rock. A current, however, sets diagonally to the left of this rocky barrier, where there is a chasm forty- five yards in width. Through this the whole body of the river roars along, swelling and whirl- ing and boiling for some distance in the wildest confusion. Through this tremendous channel the intrepid explorers of the river, Lewis and Clarke, passed safely in their boats ; the danger being, not from the rocks, but from the great surges and whirlpools. At the distance of a mile and a half from the foot of this narrow channel is a rapid, formed by two rocky islands ; and two miles beyond is a second great fall, over a ledge of rocks twenty feet high, extending nearly from shore to shore. The river is again ccmpressed into a channel !/i I I. .r i\ •>i I w 138 Bdtorta .< ■ ' from fifty to a hundred feet wide, worn through a rough bed of h'jrd black rock, along ' .*ch it boils and roars v/ith great fury for the dis- tance of three miles . This is called " The I^ong Narrows." Here is the great fishing place of the Colum- bia. In the spring of the year, when the water is high, the salmon ascend the river in incredi- ble numbers. Aa they pass through this nar- row strait, the Indians, standing on the rocks, or on the end of wooden stages projecting from the banks, scoop them up with small nets dis-\ tended on hoops and attached to long handles, and cast them on the shore. They are then cured and packed in a pecu- liar manner. After having been opened and disembowelled, they are exposed to the sun on scaffolds erected on the river banks. When sufficiently dry, they a^'e pounded fine between two stones, pressed into the smallest compass, and packed in baskets or bales of grass mat- ting, about two feet long and one in diameter, lined with the cured skin of a salmon. The top is likewi'je covered with fish and skins, secured by cords passing through holes in the edge of the basket. Packages are then made, each containing twelve of these bales, seveu at bottom, five at top, pressed close to each other, with the corded side upward, ^*- B (3veat (Tradind Aart 139 wrapped in mats and corded. These are placed in dry situations, and again covered with matting. Each of these packages con- tains from ninety to a hundred pounds of dried fish, which in this state will keep sound for several years * We have given this process at some length, as furnished by the first explorers, because it marks a practised ingenuity in preparing arti- cles of traffic for a market, seldom seem among our aboriginals. For like reason we would make especial mention of the village of Wish- ram, at the he^d of the I^ong Narrows, as be- ing a solitary instance of an aboriginal trading mart, or emporium. Here the salmon caught in the neighboring rapids were ** warehoused," to await customers. Hither the tribes from the mouth of the Columbia repaired with the fish of the sea-coast, the roots, berries, and es- pecially the wappatoo, gathered in the lower parts of the river, together with goods and trinkets obtained from the ships which casually visit the coast. Hither also the tribes from the Rocky Mountains brought down horses, beargrass, quamash, and other commodities of the interior. The merchant fishermen at the falls acted as middlemen or factors, and passed the objects of trafiic, as it were, cross-handed ; * Lewis and Clarke, vol. ii., p. 32. '/i i ! i. ,M r^ tj m i 1 K r \ f'i I' It i: 11 I40 B0toria ) ' ?■ «i ;;■■ \ trading away part of the wares received from the mountain tribes to those of the rivers and plains, and vice versa. Their packages of pound- ed salmon entered largely into the system of barter, and being carried off in opposite directions, found their way to the savage hunting camps far in the interior, and to the casual white traders who touched upon the coast. We have already noticed certain contrarie- ties of character between the Indian tribes, produced by their diet and mode of life ; and nowhere are they mere apparent than about the falls of the Columbia. The Indians of this great fishing mart are represented by the ear- liest explorers as sleeker and fatter, but less hardy and active, than the tribes of the moun- tains and prairies, who live by hunting, or of the upper parts of the river, where fish is scanty, and the inhabitants must eke out their subsistence by digging roots or chasing the deer. Indeed, whenever an Indian of the upper country is too lazy to hunt, yet is fond of good living, he repairs to the falls, to live in abundance without labor. i ** By such worthle.ss dogs as these," says an honest trader in his journal, which now lies before us, "by such worthless dogs as these are these noted fishing-places peopled, which, like the fond live jBftecte of tirade on tbe f ndians 141 our great cities> may with propriety be called the headquarters of vitiated principles." The habits of trade and the avidity of gain have their corrupting effects even in the wilder- ness, as may be instanced in the members of this aboriginal emporium ; for the same journal- ist denounces them as "saucy, impudent ras- cals, who will steal when they can, and pillage whenever a weak party fdls in their power." That he does not belie them will be evidenced hereafter, when we have occasion again to touch at Wish-ram and navigate the rapids. In the present instance the travellers effected the laborious ascent of this part of the river, with all its various portages, without molesta- tion, and once more launched away in smooth water above the high falls. The two parties continued together, without material impediment, for three or four hundred miles farther up the Columbia ; Mr. Thompson appearing to take great interest in the success of Mr. Stuart, and pointing out places favor- able, as he said, to the establishment of his contemplated trading post. Mr. Stuart, who distrusted his sincerity, at length pretended to adopt his advice, and, tak- ing leave of him, remained as if to establish himself, while the other proceeded on his course towards the mountains. No sooner, however, vj . ! '4 ■'■i I vii ! ^ ill "i;i ! » lii -I u ! a •I m 1 1 ■ i V 4 i I- 142 Bdtoria had he fairly departed than Mr. Stuart again pushed forward, under guidance of the two Indians ; nor did he stop until he had arrived within about one hundred and forty miles of the Spokan River, which he considered near enough to keep the rival establishment in check. The place which he pitched upon for his trading post was a point of land about three miles in length and two in breadth, formed by the junction of the Oakinagan with the Co- lumbia. The former is a river which has its source in a considerable lake about one hum dred and fifty miles west of the point of junc- tion. The two rivers, about the place of their confluence, are bordered by immense prairies covered with herbage, but destitute of trees. The point itself was ornamented with wild flowers of every hue, in which innumerable humming-birds were * ' banqueting nearly the livelong day." The situation of this point appeared to be well adapted for a trading post. The climate was salubrious, the soil fertile, the rivers well stocked with fish, the natives peaceable and friendly. There were easy communications with the interior by the upper waters of the Columbia and the lateral streams of the Oak- inagan, while the downward current of the Columbia furnished a highway to Astoria. / poet £0tabli0beD 143 Availing himself, therefore, of the driftwood which had collected in quantities in the neigh- boring bends of the river, Mr. Stuart and his men set to work to erect a house, which in a little while was sufficiently completed for their residence ; and thus was established the first interior post of the company. We will now return to notice the progress of affairs at the mduth of the Columbia. 1 ■ it: \ H M I ili ) 4 I u F .1 Cbapter f f . Alarm at Astoria — Rumor of Indian Hostilities — Prep- arations for Defence — Tragical Fate of the Tonquin. I HE sailing of the Tonquin, and the de- parture of Mr. David Stuart and his detachment, had produced a striking effect on affairs at Astoria. The na- tives who had swarmed about the place began immediately to drop off, until at length not an Indian was to be seen. This, at first, was at- tributed to the want of peltries with which to trade ; but in a little while the mystery was explained in a more alarming manner. A con- spiracy was said to be on foot among the neigh- boring tribes to make a combined attack upon the white men, now that they were so reduced in number. For this purpose there had been a gathering of v/^rriors in a neighboring bay, under pretext of fishing for sturgeon ; and fleets of canoes were expected to join them from the north and south. Even Comcomly, the one 144 Blacming 'Rumore 145 eyed chief, notwithstanding his profcvssed friendship for Mr. M'Dougal, was strongly suspected of being concerned in this general combination. Alarmed at rumors of this impending dan- ger, the Astorians suspended their regular labor, and set to work, with all haste, to throw up temporary works for refuge and defence. In the course of a few days they surrounded their dwelling-house and magazines with a picket-fence ninety feet square, flanked by two bastions, on which were mounted four four- pounders. Every day they exercised them- selves in the use of their weapons, so as to qualify themselves for military duty, and at night ensconced themselves in their fortress and posted sentinels, to guard against surprise. In this way they hoped, even in case of attack, to be able to hold out until the arrival of the party to be conducted by Mr. Hunt across the Rocky Mountains, or until the return of the To7iquin . The latter dependence, however, was doomed soon to be destroyed. Early in August, a wandering band of savages from the Strait of Juan de Fuca, made their appearance at the mouth of the Columbia, where they came to fish for sturgeon. They brought dis- astrous accounts of the Tonquin, which were at first treated as mere fables, but which were VOL. I.— 10 ;ri! i ! 1 ii '^ik 111! 14^ Betoria too sadly confirmed by a different tribe that arrived a few days subsequently. We shall relate the circumstances of this melancholy affair as correctly as the casual discrepancies in the statements that have reached us will perrit. We have alret^dy stat d th?t the Tonquin set sail from the mouth cf Li e tiv *r on the fifth of June. The whole number of ptr^^ons on board amounted to twenty-three. In one of the outer bays they picked up, from a fishing canoe, an Indian named I^amazee, who had already made two voyages along the coast, and knew some- thing of the languages of the various tribes. He agreed to accompany them as interpreter. Steering to the north, Captain Thorn ar- rived in a few days at Vancouver's Island, and anchored in the harbor of Neweetee, very much against the advice of his Indian interpreter, who warned him against the perfidious char- acter of the natives of this part of the coast. Numbers of canoes soon came off, bringing sea-otter skins to sell. It was too late in the day to commence a trafiic, but Mr. M'Kay, accompanied by a few of the men, went oh shore to a large village to visit Wicananish, the chief of the surrounding territory, six of the natives remaining on board as hostages. He was received with great professions of UraMud and JSIutnng 147 m lay, on |sh, of :es. of friendship 'entertained hospitably, and a couch of sea-otti, skins was prepared for hitn in the dwelling o ' the chieftain, where he vvas pre- vailed upC' ' to ],ass the night. Tn the morning, befn ^ Mr. M'Kay had re- turned to the ship, great numbers of the na- tives canie off in their canoes to trade, headed by two sons of Wicananish. As they brought abundance of sea-otter skins, and there was every appearance of a brisk trade. Captain Thorn did not wait for the return of Mr. M'Kay, but spread his wares upon deck, mak- ing a tempting display of blankets, cloths, knives, jeads, and fish-hooks, expecting a prompt and profitable sale. The Indians, however, were not so eager and simple as he had supposed, having learned the art of bar- gaining and the value of merchandise from the casual traders along the coast. They were guided, too, by a shrewd old chief named Nookamis, who had grown gray in traffic with New England skippers, and prided himself upon his acuteness. His opinion seemed to regulate the market. When Captain Thorn made what he considered a liberal offer for an otter-skin, the wily old Indian treated it with scorn, and asked more than double. His com- rades all took their cue from him, and not an otter-skin was to be had at a reasonable rate. II ^'i '' ■ ll 1 I' 1 i\ Ml fi w I 'l i i W 148 Bdtoria f The old fellow, however, overshot his mark, and mistook the character of the man he was treating with. Thorn was a plain, straightfor- ward sailor, who never had two minds nor two prices in his dealings, was deficient in patience and pliancy, and totally wanting in the chican- ery of traffic. He had a vast deal of stern but honest pride in his nature, and, moreover, held the whole savage race in sovereign contempt. Abandoning all further attempts, therefore, to bargain with his shuffling customers, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and paced up and down the deck in sullen silence. The cunning ' old Indian followed him to and fro, holding out a sea-otter skin to him at every turn, and pestering him to trade. Finding other means unavailing, he suddenly changed his tone, and began to jeer and banter him upon the mean prices he offered. This was too much for the patience of the captain, who was never remark- able for relishing a joke, especially when at his own expense. Turning suddenly upon his persecutor, he snatched the proffered otter-skin from his hands, rubbed it in his face, and dis- missed him over the side of the ship with no very complimentary application to accelerate his exit. He then kicked the peltries to the right and left about the deck, and broke up the market in the most ignominious manner. B S)eaDl!S Indult 140 Old Nookaniis made for shore in a furious passion, in which he was joined by vShcvvish, one of the sons of Wicananish, who went off breathing vengeance, and the ship was soon abandoned by the natives. When Mr. M'Kay returned ov board, the interpreter related what had passed, and begged him to prevail upon the captain to make sail, as from his knowledge of the temper and pride of the people of the place, he was sure they would resent the indignity offered to one of their chiefs. Mr. M'Kay, who himself pos- sessed some experience of Indian character, went, to the captain, who was still pacing the deck in moody humor, represented the danger to which his hasty act had exposed the vessel, and urged him to weigh anchor. The captain made light of his counsels, and pointed to his cannon and fire-arms as sufficient safeguard against naked savages. Further remonstrances only provoked taunting replies and sharp alter- cations. The day passed away without any signs of hostility, and at night the captain re- tired as usual to his cabin, taking no more than the usual precautions. On the following morning, at daybreak, while the captain and Mr. M'Kay were yet asleep, a canoe came alongside in which were twenty Indians, commanded by young Shew- m m k. I n m .i \ i\i I 4 m ' II I tl» B0tocia p I ish. They were unarmed, their aspect and demeanor friendly, and they held up otter- skins, and made signs indicative of a wish to trade. The caution enjoined by Mr. Astor, in respect to the adnii.ssion of Indians on board of the ship, had been neglected for some time past, and the officer of the watch, perceiving those in the canoe to be without weapons, and having received no orders to the contrary, readily permitted them to mount the deck. Another canoe soon succeeded, the crew of which was likewise admitted. In a little while other canoes came off, and Indians were soon clambering into the vessel on all sides. The officer of the watch now felt alarmed, and called to Captain Thorn and Mr. M'Kay. By the time they came on deck, it was thronged with Indians. The interpreter no- ticed to Mr. M'Kay that many of the natives wore short mantles of skins, and intimated a suspicion that they were secretly armed. Mr. M'Kay urged the captain to clear the ship and get under way. He again made light of the advice ; but the augmented swarm of canoes about the ship, and the numbers still putting off from shore, at length awakened his dis- trust, and he ordered some of the crew to weigh anchor, while some were sent aloft to make sail. iJA' Aasdacre ot tbc Crew 151 The Indians now offered to trade with the captain on his own terms, prompted, appar- ently, by the approaching departure of the ship. Accordingly, a hurried trade was com- menced. The main articles sought by the savages in barter were knives ; as fast as some were supplied they moved off, and others suc- ceeded. By degrees they were thus distributed about the deck, and all with weapons. The anchor was now nearly up, the sails were loose, and the captain, in a loud and per- emptory tone, ordered the ship to be cleared. In an instant, a signal yell was given ; it was echoed on every side, knives and war-clubs were brandished in every direction, and the savages rushed upon their marked victims. The first that fell was Mr. Lewis, the ship's clerk. He was leaning, with folded arms, over a bale of blankets, engaged in bargaining, when he received a deadly stab in the back, and fell down the companion-way. Mr. M'Kay, who was seated on the taffrail, sprang on his feet, but was instantly knocked down with a war-club and flung backwards into the sea, where he v\'as despatched by the women in the canoes. In the meantime Captain Thorn made des- perate fight against fearful odds. He was a powerful as well as a resolute man, but he had ./) V ij h I .U ■11 ^! -f ^ li'i til ; h \\ , tu i.! :i ■ 152 B^torta come upon deck without weapons. Shewish, the young chief, singled him out as his peculiar prey, and rushed upon him at the first out- break. The captain had barely time to draw a clasp-knife, with one blow of which he laid the young savage dead at his feet. Several of the stoutest followers of Shewish now set upon him. He defended himself vigorously, dealing crippling blows to right and left, and strewing the quarter-deck with the slain and wounded. His object was to fight his way to the cabin, where there v;ere fire-arms ; but he was hemmed in with foes, covered with wounds, and faint with loss of blood. For an instant he leaned upon the tiller wheel, when a blow from be- hind, with a war-club, felled him to the deck, where he vras despatched with knives and thrown overboard. While this was transacting upon the quarter- deck, a chance-medley fight was going on throughout the ship. The crew fought des- perately with knives, handspikes, and what- ever weapon they could seize upon in the mo- ment of surprise. They were soon, however, overpowered by numbers, and mercilessly butchered. As to the seven who had been sent aloft to make sail, they contemplated with horror the carnage thai was going on below. Being des- SurviY^ors ot tbe Conflict 153 litiite of weapons, they let themselves down by the running rigging, in hopes of getting between decks. One fell in the attempt, and was instantly despatched ; another received a death-blow in the back as he was descending ; a third, Stephen Weekes, the armorer, was mortally wounded as he was getting down the hatchway. The remaining four made good their retreat into the cabin, where they found Mr. Lewis, still alive, though mortally wounded. Barri- cading the cabin door, they broke holes through the companion-way, and, with the muskets and ammunition which were at hand, opened a brisk fire that soon cleared the deck. Thus far the Indian interpreter, from whom these particulars are derived, had been an eye- witness to the deadlv conflict. He had taken no part in it, and had been spared bj^ the na- tives as being of their race. In the confusion of the moment he took refuge with the rest, in the canoes. The survivors of the crew now sallied forth, and discharged some of the deck guns, which did great execution among the canoes, and drove all the savages to shore. For the remainder of the day no one ven- tured to put off to the ship, deterred by the effects of the fire-arms. The night passed away without any further attempt on the part ! '^ .if 11 i , 'J - I ■ s? < '■ •i ' 'I « 1 ^' 1/1 !■! )^J I i i 1 i iHr : ■ . t: ' w 154 Bdtocia of the natives. When the day dawned, the Tonquin still lay at anchor in the bay, her sails all loose and flapping in the wind, and no one apparently on board of her. After a time, some of the canoes ventured forth to recon- noitre, taking with them the interpreter. They paddled about her, keeping cautiously at a distance, but growing more and more embold- ened at seeing her quiet and lifeless. One man at length made his appearance on the deck, and was recognized by the interpreter as Mr. Lewis. He made friendly signs, and invited them on board. It was long before they ven- tured to comply. Those who mounted the deck met with no opposition ; no one was to be seen on board ; for Mr. Lewis, after inviting them, had disappeared. Other canoes now pressed forward to board the prize; the decks were soon crowded, and the sides covered with clambering savages, all intent on plunder. In the midst of their eagerness and exultation, the ship blew up with a tremendous explosion. Arms, legs, and mutilated bodies were blown into the air, and dreadful havoc was made in the surrounding canoes. The interpreter was in the main-chains at the time of the explosion, and was thrown unhurt into the water, where he succeeded in getting into one of the canoes. According to his statement, the bay presented '■ /) B Didastroua Bsplosion 155 an awful spectacle after the catastrophe. The ship had disappeared, but the bay was covered with fragments of the wreck, with shattered canoes, and Indians swimming for their lives, or struggling in the agonies of death ; while those who had escaped the danger remained aghast and stupefied, or made with frantic panic for the shore. Upwards of a hundred savages were destroyed by the explosion, many more were shockingly mutilated, and for days afterwards the limbs and bodies of the slain were thrown upon the beach. The inhabitants of Neweetee were over- whelmed with consternation at this astounding calamity, which had burst upon them in the very moment of triumph. The warriors sat mute and mournful, while the women filled the air with loud lamentations. Their weeping and wailing, however, was suddenly changed into yells of fury at the sight of four unfortu- nate white men, brought captive into the vil- fage. They had been, driven on shore in one of the ship's boats, and taken at some distance along the coast. ^ - The interpreter was permitted to converse with them. They proved to be the four brave fellows who had made such desperate defence from the cabin. The interpreter gathered from them some of the particulars already related. ^Mi ii I Hi ■ > .1 ! I It 156 Bdtotia . i They told him further, that after they had beaten off the enemy and cleared the ship, Lewis advised that they should slip the cable and endeavor to get to sea. They declined to take his advice, alleging that the wind set too strongly into the bay and would drive them on shore. They resolved, as soon as it was dark, to put off quietly in the ship's boat, which they would be able to do unperceived, and to coast along back to Astoria. They put their resolution into effect ; but Lewis refused to ac- company them, being disabled by his wound, hopeless of escape, and detirmined on a terri- ble revenge. On the voyage out, he had re- peatedly expressed a sentiment that he should die by his own hands ; thinking it highly prob- able that he should be engaged in some contest with the natives, and being resolved, in case of extremity, to commit suicide rather than be made a prisoner. He now declared his inten- tion to remain on board of the ship until day- light, to decoy as many of the savages on board as possible, then to set fire to the powder magazine, and terminate his life by a signal act of vengeance. How well he succeeded has been shown. His companions bade him a melri richoly adieu, and set off on their precari- ous fc Xj^eiition. They strove with might and main to g : - out of the bay, but found it impos- ' r ■ , i jm ^""^-"^ SavnQC Cruelti? 157 sible to weather a point of land, and were at length compelled to take shelter in a small cove, where they hoped to remain concealed until the wind should be more favorable. Exhausted by fatigue and watching, they fell into a sound sleep, and in that state were surprised by the savages. Better had it been for those unfortu- nate men had they remained with Lewis, and shared his heroic death : as it was. they per- ished in a more painful and protracted manner, being sacrificed by the natives to the manes of their friends with all the lingering tortures of savage cruelty. Some time after their death, the interpreter, who had remained a kind of prisoner at large, effected his es'rape, and brought the tragical tidings to Astoria. Such is the melancholy story of the Tonquin, and such was the fate of her brave, out head strong commander, and her adventurous crew. It is a catastrophe that shows the importance, in all enterprises of moment, to keep in mind the general instructions of the sagacious heads which devise them. Mr. Astor was well aware of the perils to which ships were exposed on this coast from quarrels with the natives, and from perfidious attempts of the latter to surprise and capture them in unguarded moments. He had repeatedly enjoined it upon Captain Thorn, in conversation, and at parting, in his letter of :l A X \^ i£8 Bstoda instructions, to be courteous and kind in his dealings with the savages, but by no means to confide in their apparent friendship, nor to ad- mit more than a few on board of his ship at a time. Had the deportment of Captain Thorn been properly regulated, the insult so wounding to savage pride would never have been given. Had he enforced the rule to admit but a few at a time, the savages would not have been able to get the mastery. He was too irritable, how- ever, to practice the necessary self-command, and, having been nurtured in a proud contempt of danger, thought it beneath him to manifest any fear of a crew of unarmed savages. With all his faults and foibles, we cannot but speak of him with esteem, and deplore his untimely fate ; for we remember him well in early life, as a companion in pleasant scenes and joyous hours. When on shore, among his friends, he was a frank, manly, sound- hearted sailor. On board ship he evidently assumed the hardness of deportment and stern- ness of demeanor which many deem essential to naval service. Throughout the whole of the expedition, however, he showed himself loyal, single-minded, straightforward, and fearless ; and if the fate of his vessel may be charged to his harshness and imprudence, we should Xo00 of tbc ** Conauin " 159 recollect that he paid for his error with his life. The loss of the Tonquin was a grievous blow to the infant establishment of Astoria, and one that threatened to bring after it a train of dis- asters. The intelligence of it did not reach Mr. Astor until many months afterwards. He felt it in all its force, and was aware that it must cripple, if not entirely defeat, the great scheme of his ambition. In his letters, writ- ten at the time, he speaks of it as "a calamity, the length of which he could not foresee." He indulged, however, in no weak and vain lamentation, but sought to devise a prompt and efficient remedy. The very same evening he appeared at the theatre with his usual serenity of countenance. A friend, who knew the dis- astrous intelligence he had received, expressed his astonishment that he could have calmness of spirit sufficient for such a scene of light amusement. ' ' What would you have me do ? " was his characteristic reply ; * * would you have me stay at home and weep for what I cannot help?" ^^s? P 'i'lj ^a % % m \ I ! I 'Ml ,'r. 1 1 ; ^; ■ I !«' ' .'^ \\i 1 \ \ \ f 1 ; ! i • 1 i * i 'a ! 1 i ll f '> V fill ; -w 'ff? *i'l(| ¥\ \\ % \ ^ |( * ■ i i :||':i « 1 '\yi \J -I ■ * ' I \ -*; \ ■ '■■ • 1 ! V \k L^ 1-' ■ I I "I I? I W I if I rf H'i (Tbapter ffir. Gloom at Astoria — An Ingenious Stratagem — The Small-pox Chief— Launching of the Dolly — A Cana- dian Trapper — An Iroquois Hunter — Winter on the Columbia — Festivities of New Year. i THE tidings of the loss of the Tonquin, and the massacre of her crew, struck dismay into the hearts ' f the Astorians. They found themselves a mere handful of men, on a savage coast, surrounded by hos- tile tribes, who would doubtless be incited and encouraged to deeds of violence by the late fearful catastrophe. In this juncture Mr. M'Dougal, we are told, had recourse to a strat- agem by which to avail himself of the igno- rance and credulity of the savages, and which certainly does credit to his ingenuity. The natives of the coast, and, indeed, of all the regions west of the mountains, had an extreme dread of the small-pox ; that terrific scourge having, a few years previously, ap- i6o ^ m *'i A'Dougare Stratagem i6l peared among them, and almost swept off entire tribes. Its origin and nature were wrapped in mystery, and they conceived it an evil inflicted upon them by the Great Spirit, or brought among them by the white men. The last idea was seized upon by Mr. M'Dou- gal. He assembled several of the chieftains whom he believed to be in the conspiracy. When they were all seated around, he informed them that he had heard of the treachery of some of their northern brethren towards the Tonquin^ and was determined on vengeance. "The white men among you," said he, "are few in number, it is true, but they are mighty in medicine. See here," continued he, draw- ing forth a small bottle and holding it before their eyes, * ' in this bottle I hold the small- pox, safely corked up ; I have but to draw the cork, and let loose the pestilence, to sweep man, woman, and child from the face of the earth." The chiefs were struck with horror and alarm. They implored him not to uncork the bottle, since they and all their people were firm friends of the white men, and would al- ways remain so ; but, should the small-pox be once let out, it would run like wildfire throughout the country, sweeping off the good as well as the bad ; and surely he would not * II II h\\ y m |! VOL. I.— H II z6a Bdtoria ^ \ .5 '' = : i i be so unjust as to punish his friends for crimes committed by his enemies. Mr. M'Dougal pretended to be convinced by their reasoning, and assured them that, so long as the white people should be unmolested, and the conduct of their Indian neighbors friendly and hospitable, the phial of wrath should re- main sealed up ; but, on the least hostility, the fatal cork should be drawn. From this time, it is ad Jed, he was much dreaded by the natives, as one who held their fate in his hands, and was called, by way of pre-eminence, **the Great Small-pox Chief." All this while, the labors at the infant set- tlement went on with unremitting assiduity, and, by the 26th of September, a commodious mansion, spacious enough to accommodate all hands, was completed. It was built of stone and clay, there being no calcareous stone in the neighborhood from which lime for mortar could be procured. The schooner was also finished, and launched, with the accustomed ceremony, on the 2d of October, and took her station below the fort. She was named the Dolly, and was the first American vessel launched on this coast. On the 5th of October, in the evening, the little community at Astoria was enlivened by the unexpected arrival of a detachment from Bn Brrival from ^ahinagan 163 I1 Mr. David Stuart's post on the Oakinagan. It consisted of two of the clerks and two of the privates. They brought favorable accounts of the new establishment, but reported that, as Mr. Stuart was apprehensive there might be a difficulty of subsisting his whole party through- out the winter, he had sent one half back to Astuna, retaining with him only Ross, Mon- tigny, and two others. Such is the hardihood of the Indian trader. In the heart of a savage and unknown country, seven hundred miles from the main body of his fellow-adventurers, Stuart had dismissed half of his little number, and A as prepared with the residue to brave all the perils of the wilderness, and the rigors of a long and dreary winter. With the return party came a Canadian Cre- ole named Regis Brugiere and an Iroquois hunter, with his wife and two children. As these two personages belong to certain classes which have derived their peculiar characteris- tics from the fur trade, we deem some few particulars concerning them pertinent to the nature of this work. Brugiere was of a class of beaver trappers and hunters technically called "Freemen," in the language of the traders. They are gener- ally Canadians by birth, and of French de- scent, who have been employed for a term of I' '1 Ml ' H' <^^^n — IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) &3 1.0 £:«- I 115 I.I 11.25 9^ 1^ lAO 22 1.4 IIIIII.6 VI <^ 7: V M PhotDgraphic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 \ iV SJ :\ \ % V 4y '<' % ■^^A c^ ^ ;\ s'^O y e^ ■V: 164 Betorfa years by some fur company, but, their term being expired, continue to hunt and trap on their own account, trading with the company like the Indians. Hence they derive their ap- pellation of Freemen, to distinguish them from the trappers who are bound for a number of years, and receive wages, or hunt on shares. Having passed their early youth in the wil- derness, separated almost entirely from civil- ized man, and in frequent intercourse with the Indians, they relapse, with a facility common to human nature, into the habitudes of savage life. Though no longer bound by engage- ments to contii ue in the interior, they have become so accustomed to the freedom of the forest and the prairie, that they look back with repugnance upon the restraints of civilization. Most of them intermarry with the natives, and, like the latter, have often a plurality of wives. Wanderers of the wilderness, according to the vicissitudes of the seasons, the migrations of animals, and the plenty or scarcity of game, they lead a precarious and unsettled existence ; exposed to sun and storm, and all kinds of hardships, until they resemble Indians in com- plexion as well as in tastes and habits. From time to time, they bring the peltries they have collected to the trading houses of the company in whose employ they have been brought up. t |i M B freeman ot tbe forest 165 Here they trafl&c them away for such articles of merchandise or ammunition as they may stand in need of. At the time when Montreal was the great emporium of the fur trader, one of these freemen of the wilderness would sud- denly return, after an absence of many years, among his old friends and comrades. He would be greeted as one risen from the dead ; and with the greater welcome, as he returned flush of money. A short time, however, spent in revelry, would be sufiicient to drain his purse and sate him with civilized life, and he would return with new relish to the unshac- kled freedom of the forest. Numbers of men of this class were scattered throughout the northwest territories. Some of them retained a little of the thrift and fore- thought of the civilized man, and became wealthy among their improvident neighbors ; their wealth being chiefly displayed in large bands of horses, which covered the prairies in the vicinity of their abbdes. Most of them, however, were prone to assimilate to the red man in their heedlessness of the future. Such was Regis Brugiere, a freeman and rover of the wilderness. Having been brought up in the service of the Northwest Company, he had followed in the train of one of its expe- ditions across the Rocky Mountains, and un- lil 111 m i66 B0torfa 41 ;i dertaken to trap for the trading post established on the Spokan River. In the course of his hunting excursions he had either accidentally, or designedly, found his way to the post of Mr. Stuart, and had been prevailed upon to descend the Columbia, and " try his luck " at Astoria. Ignace Shonowane, the Iroquois hunter, was a specimen of a different class. He was one of those aboriginals of Canada who had partially conformed to the habits of civilization and the doctrines of Christianity, under the influence of the French colonists and the Catholi»c priests ; who seem generally to have been more successful in conciliating, taming, and convert- ing the savages, than their English and Protestant rivals. These half-civilized Indians retained some of the good, and many of the evil qualities of their original stock. They were firstrate hunters, and dexterous in the management of the canoe. They could un- dergo great privations, and were admirable for the service of the rivers, lakes, and forests, pro- vided they could be kept sober, and in proper subordination ; but once inflamed with liquor, to which they were madly addicted, all the dormant passions inherent in their nature were prone to break forth, and to hurry them into the most vindictive and bloody acts of violence. Though they generally professed the Roman t Bpproacbin0 IKIlinter 167 Catholic religion, yet it was mixed, occasion- ally, with some of their ancient superstitions ; and they retained much of the Indian belief in charms and omens. Numbers of these men were employed by the Northwest Company as trappers, hunters, and canoe men, but on lower terms than were allowed to white men. Ignace Shonowane had, in this way, followed the en- terprise of the company to the banks of the Spokan, being, probably, one of the first of his tribe that had traversed the Rocky Mountains. Such were some of the motley populace of the wilderness, incident to the fur trade, who were gradually attracted to the new settlement of Astoria. The month of October now began to give indications of approaching winter. Hitherto, the colonists had been well pleased with the climate. The summer had been temperate, the mercury never rising above eighty degrees. Westerly winds had prevailed during the spring and the early part of the summer, and been suc- ceeded by fresh breezes from the northwest. In the month of October the southerly winds set in, bringing with them frequent rain. The Indians now began to quit the borders of the ocean, and to retire to their winter quar- ters in the sheltered bosom of the forests, or along the small rivers and brooks. The rainy b ! ■ I' ; I i! f'Ji'i W i68 Betoria V season, which commences in October, contin- ues, with little intermission, until April ; and though the winters are generally mild, the mercury seldom sinking below the freezing point, yet the tempests of wind and rain are terrible. The sun is sometimes obscured for weeks, the brooks swell into roaring torrents, and the country is threatened with a deluge. The departure of the Indians to their winter quarters gradually rendered provisions scanty, and obliged the colonists to send out foraging expeditions in the Dolly. Still the little hand-, ful of adventurers kept up their spirits in their lonely fort at Astoria, looking forward to the time when they should be animated and rein- forced by the party under Mr. Hunt, that was to come to them across the Rocky Mountains. The year gradually wore away. The rain, which had poured down almost incessantly since the first of October, cleared up towards the evening of the 31st of December, and the morning of the ist of January ushered in a day of sunshine. The hereditary French holiday spirit of the French voyageurs is hardly to be depressed by any adversities ; and they can manage to get up 2ifHe in the most squalid situations, and un- der the most untoward circumstances. An ex- tra allowance of rum, and a little flour to make kli fievp l^ear fCBtivitice X69 cakes and puddings, constitute a * * regale * ' ; and the3' forget all their toils and troubles in the song and dance. On the present occasion, the partners endeav- ored to celebrate the new year with some effect. At sunrise the drums beat to arms, the colors were hoisted, with three rounds of small-arms and three discharges of cannon. The day was devoted to games of agility and strength, and other amusements ; and grog was temperately distributed, together with bread, butter, and cheese. The best dinner their circumstances could afford was served up at midday. At sun- set the colors were lowered, with another dis- charge of artillery. The night was spent in dancing ; and, though there was a lack of female partners to excite their gallantry, the voyageurs kept up the ball with true French spirit, until three o'clock in the morning. So passed the New Year festival of 181 2 at the infant colony of Astoria. / i . i ; S ' 11 Cbapter ff f 1. i I I Expedition by Land — Wilson P. Hunt — Donald M'Kenzie — Chapel of St. Anne — Mackinaw — Pic- ture of a Trading Post — Inefficacy of Gold — Mr. Ramsay Crooks — His Warning Concerning Sious^ and Blackfeet — Embarkation of Recruits. WB have followed up the fortunes of the maritime part of this enterprise to the shores of the Pacific, and have conducted the affairs of the embryo establishment to the opening of the new year ; let us now turn back to the adven- turous band to whom was intrusted the land expedition, and who were to make their way to the mouth of the Columbia, up vast rivers, across trackless plains, and over the rugged barriers of the Rocky Mountains. ; The conduct of this expedition, as has been already mentioned, was assigned to Mr. Wilson Price Hunt, of Trenton, New Jersey, one of the partners of the company, who w^s ulti- t Cbe Xand BspeMtton 171 mately to be at the head of the establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. He is repre- sented as a man scrupulously upright and faith- ful in his dealings, amicable in his disposition, and of most accommodating manners ; and his whole conduct will be found in unison with such a character. He was not practically ex- perienced in the Indian trade ; that is to say, he had never made any expeditions of traffic into the heart of the wilderness, but he had been engaged in commerce at St. Louis, then a frontier settlement on the Mississippi, where the chief branch of his business had consisted in furnishing Indian traders with goods and equipments. In this way, he had acquired much knowledge of the trade at second hand, and of the various tribes, and the interior coun- try over which it extended. Another of the partners, Mr. Donald M'Ken- zie, was associated with Mr. Hunt in the ex- pedition, and excelled on those points in which the other was deficient ; for he had been ten years in the interior, in the service of the Northwest Company, and valued himself on his knowledge of "woodcraft," and the strat- egy of Indian trade and Indian warfare. He had a frame seasoned to toils and hardships ; a spirit not to be intimidated, and was reputed to be a ** remarkable shot" ; which, of itself, I'i '4 1^ il I I \ ]'•'- 173 Batorta was sufficient to give him renown upon the frontier. Mr. Hunt and his coadjutor repaired, about the latter part of July, 1810, to Montreal, the ancient emporium of the fur trade, where every- thing requisite for the expedition could be pro- cured. One of the first objects was to recruit a complement of Canadian voyageurs from the disbanded herd usually to be found loitering about the place. A degree of jockeyship, how- ever, is required for this service, for a Canadian voyageur is as full of latent tricks and vice as a horse ; and when he makes the greatest ex- ternal promise, is prone to prove the greatest " take in." Besides, the Northwest Company, who maintained a long-established control at Montreal, and knew the qualities of every voyageur^ secretly interdicted the prime hands from engaging in this new service ; so that, although liberal terms were offered, few pre- sented themselves but such as were not worth having. From these Mr. Hunt engaged a number sufficient, as he supposed, for present purposes ; and, having laid in a supply of ammunition, provisions, and Indian goods, embarked all on board one of those great canoes at that time universally used by the fur traders for navigat- ing the intricate and often obstructed rivers. 11 Zbc ZtA^ctB* Canoe 173 ' i )er is; m, on Inie lat- trs. The canoe was between thirty and forty feet long, and several feet in width ; constructed of birch bark, sewed with fibres of the roots of the spruce tree, and daubed with resin of the pine, instead of tar. The cargo was made up in packages, weighing from ninety to one hun- dred pounds each, for the facility of loading and unloading, and of transportation at port- ages. The canoe itself, though capable of sus- taining a freight of upwards of four tons, could readily be carried on men's shoulders. Canoes of this size are generally managed by eight or ten men, two of whom are picked veterans, who receive double wages, and are stationed, one at the bow and the other at the stern, to keep a look-out and to steer. They are termed the foreman and the steersman. The rest, who ply the paddles, are called mid- dle men. When there is a favorable breeze, the canoe is occasionally navigated with a sail. The expedition took its regular departure, as usual, from St. Anne's, near the extremity of the island of Montreal, the great siarting- place of the traders to the interior. Here stood the ancient chapel of St. Anne, the patroness of the Canadian voyageurs ; where they made confession, and offered up their vows, previous to departing on any hazardous expedition. The shrine of the saint was decorated with " ' ':\ \ U. 174 B0toria k I relics and votive offerings hung up by these superstitious beings, either to propitiate her favor, or in gratitude for some signal deliver- ance in the wilderness. It was the custom, too, of these devout vagabonds, after leaving the chapel, to have a grand carouse, in honor of the saint and for the prosperity of the voy- age. In this part of their devotions, the crew of Mr. Hunt proved themselves by no means deficient. Indeed, he soon discovered that his recruits, enlisted at Montreal, were fit to vie with the ragged regiment of Falstaff. Som^ were able-bodied, but inexpert ; others were expert, but lazy ; while a third class were ex- pert and willing, but totally worn out, being broken-down veterans, incapable of toil . With this inefficient crew he made his way up the Ottawa River, and by the ancient route of the fur traders, along a succession of small lakos and rivers, to Michilimackinac. Their progress was slow and tedious. Mr. Hunt was not accustomed to the management of vqy- ageurs^ and he had a crew admirably dis- posed to play the old soldier, and balk their work ; and ever ready to come to a halt, land, make p fire, put on the great pot, and smoke, and gossip, and sing by the hour. It was not until the 22d of July that they arrived at Mackinaw, situated on the island of Aacfiinaw 175 the same name, at the confluence of lakes Huron and Michigan. This famous old French trading-post continued to be a rallying point for a multifarious and motley population. The inhabitants were amphibious in their habits, most of them being, or having been voyageurs or canoe men. It was the great place of ar- rival and departure of the southwest fur trade. Here the Mackinaw Company had established its principal post, from whence it communicated with the interior and with Montreal. Hence its various traders and trappers set out for their respective destinations about Lake Su- perior and its tributary waters, or for the Mississippi, the Arkansas, the Missouri, and the other regions of the west. Here, after the absence of a year, or more, they returned with their peltries, and settled their accounts ; the furs rendered in by them being transmitted in canoes from hence to Montreal. Mackinaw was, therefore, for a great part of the year, very scantily peopled ; but at certain seasons the traders arrived from all points, with their crews of voyageurs^ and the place swarmed like a hive. Mackinaw, at that time, was a mere village, stretching along a small bay, with a fine broad beach in front of its principal row of houses, and dominated by the old fort, which crowned *• V-' ^ T "'! f 176 BstoriL i i i:*i an impending height. The beach was a kind of public promenade, where were displayed all the vagaries of a seaport on the arrival of a fleet from a long cruise. Here voyageurs frol- icked away their wages, fiddling and dancing in the booths and cabins, buying all kinds of knick-knacks, dressing themselves out finely, and parading up and down, like arrant brag- garts and coxcombs. Sometimes they met with rivat coxcombs in the young Indians from the opposite shore, who would appear on the beach painted and decorated in fantastic style, and would saunter up and down, to be gazed at and admired, perfectly satisfied that they eclipsed their pale-faced competitors. Now and then a chance party of "North- westers" appeared at Mackinaw from the rendezvous at Fort William. These held themselves up as the chivalry of the fur trade. They were men of iron ; proof against cold weather, hard fare, and perils of all kinds. Some would wear the Northwest button, and a formidable dirk, and assume something of a military air. They generally wore feathers in their hats, and affected the ''brave." "Je suis un homme du nord ! " — " I am a man of the north," — one of those swelling fellows would exclaim, sticking his arms akimbo and ruffling by the Southwesters, whom he regarded Swelld anD Svpad^erete 177 ls a kind layed all ival of a eurs frol- . dancing kinds of ,ut finely, •ant brag- they met lians from ar on the istic style, ► be gazed that they ■ i "North- from the hese held ; fur trade. ;ainst cold all kinds. lUtton, and :thing of a feathers in Ive." "Je a man of ig fellows Ikimbo and le regarded with great contempt, as men softened by mild climates and the luxurious fare of bread and bacon, and whom he stigmatized with the in- glorious name of pork-eaters. The superiority assumed by these vainglorious swaggerers was, in general, tacitly admitted. Indeed, some of them had acquired great notoriety for deeds of hardihood and courage ; for the fur trade had its heroes, whose names resounded throughout the wilderness. Such was Mackinaw at the time of which we are treating. It now, doubtless, presents a totally different aspect. The fur companies no longer assemble there ; the navigation of the lakes is carried on by steamboats and various shipping, and the race of traders, and trappers, and voyageurs, and Indian dandies, have vapored out their brief hour and disappeared. Such changes does the lapse of a handful of years make in this ever-changing country. At this place Mr. Hunt remained for some time, to complete his assortment of Indian goods, and to increase his number of toyageurs^ as well as to engage some of a more efficient character than those enlisted at Montreal. And now commenced another game of jockey- ship. There were able and efficient men in abundance at Mackinaw, but for several days not one presented himself. If offers were made VOL. I.— 12 :f' 1 i ii ! 1 ! I '■\ i \ \ I f .1 i; ;H 178 Bdtotfa to any, they were listened to with a shake of the head. Should any one seem inclined to enlist, there were officious idlers and busy- bodies, of that class who are ever ready to dis- suade others from any enterprise in which they themselves have no concern . These would pull him by the sleeve, take him on one side, "^ and would murmur in his ear, or would sug- gest difficulties outright. It was objected that the expedition would have to navigate unknown rivers, and pass through howling wildernesses infested by savage tribes, who had already cut off the unfortunate voyageurs that had ventured among them ; that it was to climb the Rock)^ Mountains and descend into dCvSolate and famished regions, where the traveller was often obliged to subsist on grasshoppers and crickets, or to kill his own horse for food. At length one man was hardy enough to en- gage, and he was used like a ** stool-pigeon, ' ' to decoy others ; but several days elapsed before any more could be prevailed upon to join him. A few then came to terms. It was desirable to engage them for five years, but some refused to engage for more than three. Then they must have part of their pay in advance, which was readily granted. When they had pocketed the amount, and squandered it in regales or in m S)inicultie0 of "Recruitind 179 r' outfits, they began to talk of pecuniary obliga- tions at Mackinaw, which must be discharged before they would be free to depart ; or en- gagements with other persons, which were only to be cancelled by a " reasonable consider- ation." It was in vain to argue or remonstrate. The money advanced hid already been sacked and spent, and must be lost and the recruits left behind, unless they could be freed from their debts and engagements. Accordingly, a fine was paid for one ; a judgment for another ; a tavern bill for a third, and almost all had to be bought off from some prior engagement, either real or pretended. Mr. Hunt groaned in spirit at the incessant and unreasonable demands of these worthies upon his purse ; yet with all this outlay of funds, the number recruited was but scanty, and many of the most desirable still held them- selves aloof, and were not to be caught by a golden bait. With these he tried another temptation. Among the recruits who had en- listed he distributed feathers and ostrich plumes. These they put in their hats, and thus figured about Mackinaw, assuming airs of vast importance, as voyageurs in a new company, that was to eclipse the Northwest. The effect was complete. A French Canadian '. /■ I I ! 'I S H m ii lit « \ i8o B0toria ■ . is too vain and mercurial a being to withstand the finery and ostentation of the feather. Numbers immediately pressed into the service. One must have an ostrich plume ; another, a white feather with a red end ; a third, a bunch of cocks' tails. Thus all paraded about, in vainglorious style, more delighted with the feathers in their hats than with the money in their pockets ; and considering themselves fully equal to the boastful *' men of the north.'* While thus recruiting the number of rank and file, Mr. Hunt was joined by a person whom he had invited, by letter, to engage as a partner in the expedition. This was Mr. Ramsay Crooks, a young man, a native of Scotland, who had served under the Northwest Company, and been engaged in trading expe- ditions upon his individual account among the tribes of the Missouri. Mr. Hunt knew him personally, and had conceived a high and mer- ited opinion of his judgment, enterprise, and integrity ; he was rejoiced, therefore, when the latter consented to accompany him. Mr. Crooks, however, drew from experience a pic- ture of the dangers to which they would be subjected, and urged the importance of going with a considerable force. In ascending the upper Missouri they would have to pass through the country of the Sioux Indians, who had .'M Bmbacltatfon of tbe \Do^tiQc\xte x8i manifested repeated hostility to the white traders, and rendered their expeditions ex- tremely perilous ; firing upon them from the river banks as they passed beneath in their boats, and attacking them in their encamp- ments. Mr. Crooks himself, when voyaging in company with another trader of the name of M%ellan, had been interrupted by these marauders, and had considered himself fortu- nate in escaping down the river without loss of life or property, but with a total abandon- ment of his trading voyage. Should they be fortunate enough to pass through the country of the Sioux without molestation, they would have another tribe still more savage and warlike beyond, and deadly foes of the white men. These were the Blackfeet Indians, who ranged over a wide extent of country which they would have to traverse. Under all these circumstances, it was thought advisable to augment the party considerably. It already exceeded the number of thirty, to which it had originally been limited ; but it was determined, on arriving at St. I^ouis, to increase it to the number of sixty. These matters being arranged, they prepared to embark ; but the embarkation of a crew of Canadian voyageurs^ on a distant expedition, / i! I ! ■ '' I I }: i 1 : i: ! Pi : w % ;• n \ t 1:1 I 1 82 B0toria P hi is not so easy a matter as might be imagined ; especially of such a set of vainglorious fellows with money in both pockets, and cocks' tails in their hats. Like sailors, the Canadian voy- ageurs generally preface a long cruise with a carouse. They have their cronies, their broth- ers, their cousins, their wives, their sweet- hearts, all to be entertained at their expense. They feast, they fiddle, they drink, they sing, they dance, they frolic and fight, until they are all as mad as so many drunken Indians. The publicans are all obedience to their commands, never hesitating to let them run up scores without limit, knowing that, when their own money is expended, the purses of their employ- ers must answer for the bill, or the voyage must be delayed. Neither was it possible, at that time, to remedy the matter at Mackinaw. In that amphibious community there was always a propensity to wrest the laws in favor of riot- ous or mutinous boatmen. It was necessary, also, to keep the recruits in good humor, seeing the novelty and danger of the service into which they were entering, and the ease with which they might at any time escape it, by jumping into a canoe and going down the stream. Such were the scenes that beset Mr. Hunt, and gave him a foretaste of the difficulties of his command. The little cabarets and sutlers' int, of lers' parting Scenes 183 shops along the bay resounded with the scrap- ing of fiddles, with snatches of old French songs, with Indian whoops and yells, while every plumed and feathered vagabond had his troop of loving cousins and comrades at his heels. It was with the utmost difficulty they could be extricated from the clutches of the publicans and the embraces of their pot com- panions, who followed them to the water's edge with many a hug, a kiss on each cheek, and a maudlin benediction in Canadian French. It was about the i2tli of August that they left Mackinaw, and pursued the usual route by Green Bay, Fox and Wisconsin rivers, to Prairie du Chien, and thence down the Missis- sippi to St. Louis, where they landed on the 3d of September. /* i.| '>si m S '' w f-\ ■\ I \ Cbaptet ^W. ^ St. Louis — French Creole Traders and Their Depend- ents — Missouri Fur Company — Mr, Manuel Lisa — Mississippi Boatmen — Vagrant Indians — Kentucky Hunters — Mr. Joseph Miller — Voyage up the Mis- souri — Arrival at the Nodowa — Mr. Robert M'Lel- lan Joins the Party— John Day, a Virginia Hunter — Mr. Hunt Returns to St. Louis. ST. LOUIS, which is situated on the right bank of the Mississippi River, a few miles below the mouth of the Missouri, ^ was, at that time, a frontier settlement, and the last fitting-out place for the Indian trade of the Southwest. It possessed a motley population, composed of the Creole descend- ants of the original French colonists ; the keen traders from the Atlantic States ; the back- woodsmen of Kentucky and Tennessee; the Indians and half-breeds of the prairies; to- gether with a singular aquatic race that had grown up from the navigation of the rivers — the "boatmen of the Mississippi," who pos- 184 V \ ^be Abi00ouri fur Compani? 185 sessed habits, manners, and almost a language, peculiarly their own, and strongly technical. They, at that time, were extremely numerous, and conducted the chief navigation and com- merce of the Ohio and the Mississippi, as the voyageurs did of the Canadian waters ; but, like them, their consequence and characteris- tics are rapidly vanishing before the all-per- vading intrusion of steamboats. The old French houses engaged in the In- dian trade had gathered round them a train of dependents, mongrel Indians and mongrel Frenchmen, who had intermarried with In- dians. These they employed in their various expeditions by land and water. Various in- dividuals of other countries had, of late years, pushed the trade farther into the interior, to the upper waters of the Missouri, and had swelled the number of these hangers-on. Sev- eral of these traders had, two or three years previously, formed themselves into a company, composed of twelve partners, with a capital of about forty thousand dollars, called the Missouri Fur Company, the object of which was to establish posts along the upper part of that river, and monopolize the trade. The leading partner of this company was Mr. Man- uel I^isa, a Spaniard by birth, and a man of bold and enterprising character, who had as- . ■? '",\ I.! II ie 186 B0toria I : fi I ' 1! ! . . / cended the Missouri almost to its source, and made himself well acquainted and popular with several of its tribes. By his exertions, trading posts had been established, in 1808, in the Sioux country, and among the Aricara and Mandan tribes ; and a principal one, un- der Mr. Henry, one of the partners, at the forks of the Missouri. This company had in its employ about two hundred and fifty men, partly American hunters, and partly Creoles and Canadian voyageurs. All these circumstances combined to pro- duce a population at St. I^ouis even still more motley than that at Mackinaw. Here were to be seen, about the river banks, the hector- ing, extravagant, bragging boatmen of the Mississippi, with the gay, grimacing, singing, good-humored Canadian voyageurs. Vagrant Indians, of various tribes, loitered about the streets. Now and then a stark Kentucky hunter, in leathern hunting-dress, with rifle on shoulder and knife in belt, strode along. Here and there were new brick houses and shops, just set up by bustling, driving, and eager men of traffic from the Atlantic States ; while, on the other hand, the old French man- sions, with open casements, still retained the easy, indolent air of the original colonists ; and now and then the scraping of a fiddle, a strain B Itlval Companc at St. Xoule Of of an ancient French song, or the sound of billiard balls, showed that the happy Gallic turn for gayety and amusement still lingered about the place. Such was St. Louis at the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival there, and the appearance of a new fur company, with ample funds at its command, produced a strong sensation among the Indian traders of the place, and awak- ened keen jealousy and opposition on the part of the Missouri Company. Mr. Hunt proceeded to strengthen himself against all competition. For this purpose, he secured to the interests of the association another of those enterprising men, who had been engaged in individual traffic with the tribes of the Mis- souri. This was a Mr. Joseph Miller, a gen- tleman well educated and well informed, and of a respectable family of Baltimore. He had been an officer in the army of the United States, but had resij^ned in disgust, on being refused a furlough, and had taken to trapping beaver and trading among the Indians. He was easily induced by Mr. Hunt to join as a partner, and was considered by him, on account of his edu- cation and acquirements, and his experience in Indian trade, a valuable addition to the com- pany. Several additional men were likewise en- M 1 • ^ if 188 B0toria !- listed at St. lyouis, some as boatmen, and others as hunters. These last were engaged, not merely to kill game for provisions, but also, and indeed chiefly, to trap beaver and other animals of rich furs, valuable in the trade. They enlisted on different terms. Some were to have a fixed salary of three hundred dol- lars ; others were to be fitted out and main- tained at the expense of the company, and were to hunt and trap on shares. As Mr. Hunt met with much opposition on the part of rival traders, especially the Mis- souri Fur Company, it took him some week'* to complete his preparations. The delays which he had previously experienced at Mon- treal, Mackinaw, and on the way, added to those at St. lyouis, had thrown him much be- hind his original calculation, so that it would be impossible to effect his voyage up the Mis- souri the present year. This river, flowing from high and cold latitudes, and through wide and open plains, exposed to chilling blasts, freezes early. The winter may be dated from the first of November ; there was every prospect, therefore, that it would be closed with ice long before Mr. Hunt could reach its upper waters. To avoid, however, the ex- pense of wintering at St. I^ouis, he determined to push up the river as far as possible, to some f J naviaatina tbe Ai^dourl ««9 point above the settlements, where game was plenty, and where his whole party could be subsisted by hunting, until the breaking up of the ice in the spring should permit them to resume their voyage. Accordingly on the 21st of October he took his departure from St. lyouis. His party was distributed in three boats. One was the barge which he had brought from Mackinaw ; another was of a larger size, such as was form- erly used in navigating the Mohawk River, and known by the generic name of the Sche- nectady barge ; the other was a large keel boat, at that time the grand conveyance on the Mis- sissippi. In this way they set out from St. I^ouis, in buoyant spirits, and soon arrived at the mouth of the Missouri. This vast river, three thou- sand miles in length, and which, with its tribu- tary streams, drains such an immense extent of country, was as yet but casually and imper- fectly navigated by the adventurous bark of the fur trader. A steamboat had never yet stemmed its turbulent current. Sails were but of casual assistance, for it required a strong wind to conquer the force of the stream. The main dependence was on bodily strength and manual dexterity. The boats, in general, had to be propelled by oars and setting poles, or 'J )M I;)] t I t i Ml jjl if V m \W 1 > I i ''i 190 Bdtoria drawn by the hand and by grappling hooks from one root or overhanging tree to another ; or towed by the long cordelle, or towing line, where the shores were sufficiently clear of woods and thickets to permit the men to pass along the banks. During this slow and tedious progress the boat would be exposed to frequent danger from floating trees and great masses of driftwood, or to be impaled upon snags and sawyers ; that is to say, sunken trees presenting a jagged or pointed end above the surface of the water. As the channel of the river frequently shifted from side to side according to the bends and sand-banks, the boat had, in the same way, to advance in a zigzag course. Often a part of the crew would have to leap into the water at the shallows, and wade along with the towing line, while their comrades on board toilfuUy as- sisted with oar and setting pole. Sometimes the boat would seem to be retained motionless, as if spellbound, opposite some point round which the current vset with violence, and where the utmost labor scarce effected any visible progress. On these occasions it was that the merits of the Canadian voyageurs came into full action. Patient of toil, not to be disheartened by im- pediments and disappointments, fertile in expe- } f Minter (Sluarters at Vlodowa 191 dients, and versed in every mode of humoring and conquering the wayward current, they would ply every exertion, sometimes in the boat, sometimes on shore, sometimes in the water, however cold ; always alert, always in good humor ; and, should they at any time flag or grow weary, one of their popular boat songs, chanted by a veteran oarsman, and re- sponded to in chorus, acted as a never-failing restorative. By such assiduous and persevering labor they made their way about four hundred and fifty miles up the Missouri, by the i6th of No- vember, to the mouth of the Nodowa. As this was a good hunting country, and as the season was rapidly advancing, they determined to es- tablish their winter quarters at this place ; and, in fact, two days after they had come to a halt, the river closed just above their encampment. The party had not been long at this place when they were joined by Mr. Robert M'Lel- lan, another trader of the Missouri ; the same who had been associated with Mr. Crooks in the unfortunate expedition in which they had been intercepted by the Sioux Indians, and obliged to make a rapid retreat down the river. M'Lellan was a remarkable man. He had been a partisan under General Wayne, in his Indian wars, where he had distinguished him- i '•^ , 1)1 m i I pi 1 L ] ..,,. I i 192 Bdtocia ,f self by his fiery spirit and reckless darit i^;, and marvellous stories were told of his exploits. His appearance answered to his character. His frame was meagre, but muscular ; showing strength, activity, and iron firmness. His eyes were dark, deep-set, and piercing. He was restless, fearless, but of impetuous and some- times ungovernable temper. He had been invited by Mr. Hunt to enroll himself as a part- ner, and gladly consented ; being pleased with the thoughts of passing with a powerful force through the country of the Sioux, and per- haps having an opportunity of revenging himself upon that lawless tribe for their past offences. Another recruit that joined the camp at Nodowa deserves equal mention. This was John Day, a hunter from the backwoods of Virginia, who had been several years on the Missouri in the service of Mr. Crooks, and of other traders. He was about forty years of age, six feet two inches high, straight as an Indian ; with an elastic step as if he trod on springs, and a handsome, open, manly countenance. It was his boast that, in his younger days, nothing could hurt or daunt him ; but he had "lived too fast," and injured his constitution by his excesses. Still he was strong of hand, bold of heart, a prime woodman, and an almost Dunt'd meit to St. Xouia 193 unerring shot. He had the frank spirit of a Virginian, and the rough heroism of a pioneer of the west. The party were now brought to a halt for several months. They were in a country abounding with deer and wild turkeys, so that there was no stint of provisions, and every one appeared cheerful and contented. Mr. Hunt detennined to avail himself of this interval to return to St. lyouis and obtain a reinforcement. He wished to procure an interpreter, acquainted with the language of the Sioux, as, from all accounts, he apprehended difficulties in passing through the country of that nation. He felt the necessity, also, of having a greater number of hunters, not merely to keep up a supply of provisions throughout their long and arduous expedition, but also as a protection and defence, in case of Indian hostilities. For such service the Canadian voyageurs were little to be de- pended upon, fighting not being a part of their profession. The proper kind of men were American hunters, experienced in savage life and savage warfare, and possessed of the true game spirit of the west. Leaving, therefore, the encampment in charge of the other partners, Mr. Hunt set off" on foot on the ist of January (18 10), for St. lyouis. He was accompanied by eight men as VOL. I.— 13 , . f » '■ % J ( i.l I ^ 194 Bdtotia far as Fort Osage, about one hundred and fifty miles below Nodowa. Here he procured a couple of horses, and proceeded on the remain- der of his journey with two men, sending the other six back to the encampment. He arrived at St. I^ouis on the 20th of January. h ; tl i Cbaptcr flD* opposition of the Missouri Fur Company — Blackfeet Indians— Pierre Dorion, a Half-breed Interpreter— Renegadoes from Nodowa — Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall Join the Expedition— Departure from St. Louis— Daniel Boone, the Patriarch of Kentucky — John Colter — His Adventures among the Indians — Fort Osage— An Indian War-feast. ^ ON this his second visit to St. Iidatrcction and S>e0ertion 199 weeks, capitulated to serve in the expedition, as hunter and interpreter, at the rate of three hundred dollars a year, two hundred of which were to be paid in advance. When Mr. Hunt had got everything ready for leaving St. Louis, new difficulties arose. Five of the American hunters from the encamp- ment at Nodowa suddenly made their appear- ance. They alleged that they had been ill treated by the partners at the encampment, and had come off clandestinely, in consequence of a dispute. It was useless at the present moment, and under present circumstances, to attempt any compulsory measures with these deserters. Two of them Mr. Hunt prevailed upon, by mild means, to return with him. The rest refused ; nay, what was worse, they spread such reports of the hardships and dan- gers to be apprehended in the course of the expedition, that they struck a panic into those hunters who had recently engaged at St. Louis, and, when the hour of departure arrived, all but one refused to embark. It was in vain to plead or remonstrate ; they shouldered their rifles and turned their backr upon the expedi- tion, and Mr. Hunt was fain to put off from shore with the single hunter and a number of voyageurs whom he had engaged. Even Pierre Dorion, at the last moment, refused to li \\ 1 1 ml i I.! ' > \\ n I n \l \ -. iHt'J \ .1 I \% 200 Bstorla I ] • I. . I i 1 enter the boat until Mr. Hunt consented to take his squaw and two children on board also. But the tissue of perplexities, on account of this worthy individual, did not end here. Among the various persons who were about to proceed up the Missouri with Mr. Hunt, were two scientific gentlemen : one Mr. John Bradbury, a man of mature age, but great en- terprise and personal activity, who had been sent out by the Linnaean Society of Liverpool to make a collection of American plants ; the other, a Mr. Nuttall, likewise an Englishman, younger in years, who has since made himself known as the author of Travels in Arkansas, and a work on the Genera of Aynerican Playits. Mr. Hunt had offered them the protection and facilities of his party, in their scientific re- searches up the Missouri. As they were not ready to depart at the moment of embarkation, they put their trunks on board of the boat, but remained at St. Louis until the next day, for the arrival of the post, intending to join the expedition at St. Charles, a short distance above the mouth of the Missouri. The same evening, however, they learned that a v/rit had been issued against Pierre Dorion for his whiskey debt, by Mr. Lisa, as agent of the Missouri Company, and that it was the intention to entrap the mongrel lin- I ! rned ierre a, as at it lin- pferre'0 (Troubles 30I guist on his arrival at St. Charles. Upon hearing this, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall set off a little after midnight, by land, got ahead of the boat as it was asc'=;nding the Mis- souri, before its arrival at St. C'larles, and gave Pierre Dorion warning of the legal toil prepared to ensnare him. The knowing Pierre immedi- ately landed and took to the woods, followed by his squaw laden with their papooses, and a large bundle containing their most precious effects, promising to rejoin the party some distance above St. Charles. There seemed little dependence to be placed upon the prom- ises of a loose adventurer of the kind, who was at the very time playing an evasive game with his former employers ; who had already received two thirds of his year's pay, and his rifle on his shoulder, his family and wordly fortune at his heels, and the wild woods before him. There was no alternative, however, and it was hoped his pique against his old employ- ers would render him faithful to his new ones. The party reached St. Charles in the after- noon, but the harpies of the law looked in va'n for their expected prey. The boats re- sumed their course on the following morning, and had not proceeded far when Pierre Dorion made his appearance on the shore. He was gladly taken on board, but he came without !iV ^i \ v\ f !i 909 B0tor(a 1^ his squaw. They had quarrelled in the night ; Pierre had administered the Indian discipline of the cudgel, whereupon she had taken to the woods, with their children and all their wordly goods. Pierre evidently was deeply grieved and disconcerted at the loss of his wife and his knapsack, whereupon Mr. Hunt despatched one of the Canadian voyageiirs in search of the fugitive ; and the whole party, after proceeding a few miles farther, encamped on an island to wait his return. The Canadian rejoined the party, but without the squaw ; and Pierre Dorion passed a solitary and anxious night, bitterly regretting his indiscretion in having exercised his conjugal authority so near home. Before daybreak, however, a well- known voice reached his ears from the opposite shore. It was his repentant spouse, who had been wandering the woods all night in quest of the party, and had at Irnath descried it by its fires. A boat was despatched for her, the interesting family was once more united, and Mr. Hunt now flattered himself that his per- plexities with Pierre Dorion were at an end. Bad weather, very heavy rains, and an un- usually early rise in the Missouri, rendered the ascent of the river toilsome, slow, and danger- ous. The rise of the Missouri does not gener- ally take place until the month of May or riven sippi, consi( Red] montl more the le supen posed icy ba these 1 discha: sippi, J that w lower c On t 17th, t] old vil colonist the ren< kept in Daniel JSoone 903 June : the present swelling of the river must have been caused by a freshet in sotne of its more southern branches. It could not have been the great annual flood, as the higher branches must still have been ice-bound. And here we cannot but pause, to notice the admirable arrangement of nature, by which the annual swellings of the various great rivers which empty themselves into the Missis- sippi, have been made to precede each other at considerable intervals. Thus, the flood of the Red River precedes that of the Arkansas by a month. The Arkansas, also, rising in a much more southern latitude than the Missouri, takes the lead of it in its annual excess, and its superabundant waters are disgorged and dis- posed of long before the breaking up of the icy barriers of the north ; otherwise, did all these mighty streams rise simultaneously, and discharge their vernal floods into the Missis- sippi, an inundation would be the consequence, that would submerge and devastate all the lower country. On the afternoon of the third day, January 17th, the boats touched at Charette, one of the old villages founded by the original French colonists. Here they met with Daniel Boone, the renowned patriarch of Kentucky, who had kept in the advance of civilization, and on the , )' i \l t II If hf^- 204 Bstorfa i:\ 1 i ; V i borders of the wilderness, still leading a hunt- er's life, though now in his eighty-fifth year. He had but recently returned from a hunting and trapping expedition, and had brought nearly sixty beaver skins as trophies of his skill. The old man was still erect in form, strong in limb, and unflinching in spirit, and as he stood on the river bank, watching the departure of an expedition destined to traverse the wilderness to the very shores of the Pacific, very probably felt a throb of his old pioneer spirit, impelling him to shoulder his rifle and join the adventurous band. Boone flourished several years after this meeting, in a vigorous old age, the Nestor of hunters and backwoods- men ; and died, full of sylvan honor and re- nown, in 18 18, in his ninety-second year. The next morning early, as the party were yet encamped at the mouth of a small stream, they were visited by another of these heroes of the wilderness, one John Colter, who had ac- companied lycwis and Clarke in their memora- ble expedition. He had recently made one of those vast internal voyages so characteristic of this fearless class of men, and of the immense regions over which they hold their lonely wan- derings ; having come from the head waters of the Missouri to St. I^ouis in a small canoe. This distance of three thousand miles he had accom- t ; . ., ,> -. A, .,, . " ' - jM^> I iiill'i I-' 1 Colter and potta a©8. plished in thirty days. Colter kept with the party all the morning. He had many particu- lars to give them concerning the Blackfeet In- dians, a restless and predatory tribe, who had conceived an implacable hostility to the white men, in consequence of one of their warriors having been killed by Captain Lewis, while at- tempting to steal horses. Through the coun- try infested by these savages the expedition would have to proceed, and Colter was urgent in reiterating the precautions that ought to be observed respecting them. He had himself experienced their vindictive cruelty, and his story deserves particular citation, as showing the hairbreadth adventures to which these soli- tary rovers of the wilderness are exposed. Colter, with the hardihood of a regular trap- per, had cast himself loose from the party of Lewis and Clarke in the very heart of the wil- derness, and had remained to trap beaver alone on the head v^ater.s of the Missouri. Here he fell in w^.th another lonely tra^ per, like himself, named Potts, and they agreed to keep together. They were in the very region of the terrible Blackfeet, at that time thirsting to revenge the death of their companion, and knew that they had to expect no mercy at their hands. They were obliged to keep concealed all day in the woody margins of the rivers, setting their traps I ■} i \} t ! ■' ; .-J ••t V, if i |i| I I !i i m \l 206 Bstocia fv ^'» i ' after nightfall and taking them up before day- break. It was running a fearful risk for the sake of a few beaver skins ; but such is the life of the trapper. They were on a branch of the Missouri called JeiFerson Fork, and had set their traps at night, about six miles up a small river that emptied into the fork. Early in the morning they as- cended the river in a canoe, to examine the traps. The banks on each side were high and perpendicular, and cast a shade over the stream. As they were softly paddling along, they heard the trampling of many feet upon the banks. Colter immediately gave the alarm of ** Indi- ans ! ' ' and was for instant retreat. Potts scoffed at him for being frightened by the tram- pling of a herd of buffaloes. Colter checked his uneasiness and paddled forward. They had not gone much farther when frightful whoops and yells burst forth from each side of the river, and several hundred Indians appeared on either bank. Signs ivere made to the unfortunate trappers to come on shore. They were obliged to comply. Before they could get out of their canoe, a savage seized the rifle belonging to Potts. Colter sprang on "shore, wrested the weapon from the hands of the Indian, and re- stored it to his companion, who was still in the canoe, and immediately pushed into th^ stream. '. \\ Btlrai2 witb tbe JSlacMeet 207 There was the sharp twang of a bow, and Potts cried out that he was wounJed. Colter urged him to come on shore and submit, as his only chance for life ; but the other knew there was no prospect of mercy, and determined to die game. Levelling his rifle, he shot one of the savages dead on the spot. The next moment he fell himself, pierced with innumerable ar- rows. The vengeance of the savages now turned upon Colter. He was stripped naked, and, having some knowledge of the Blackfoot lan- guage, overheard a consultation as to the mode of despatching him, so as to derive the greatest amusement from his death. Some were for set- ting him up as a mark, and having a trial of skill at his expense. The chief, however, was for nobler sport. He seized Colter by the shoulder, and demanded if he could run fast. The unfortunate trapper was too well ac- quainted with Indian customs not to compre- hend the drift of the question. He knew he was to run for his life, to furnish a kind of human hunt to his persecutors. Though in reality he was noted among his brother hunters for swiftness of foot, he assured the chief that he was a very bad runner. His stratagem gained him some vantage ground. He was led by the chief into the prairie, about four hun- « 11 !' M V, 208 Betoria >i dred yards from the main body of savages, and then turned loose to save himself if he could. A tremendous yell let him know that the whole pack of blood-hounds were off in full cry. Col- ter flew rather than ran ; he was astonished at his own speed ; but he had six miles of prairie to traverse before he should reach the Jefferson Fork of the Missouri ; how could he hope to hold out such a distance with the fearful odds of several hundred to one against him ! The plain, too, abounded with the prickly pear, which wounded his naked feet. Still he fled on, dreading each moment to hear the twang of a bow, and to feel an arrow quivering at his heart. He did not even dare to look round, lest he should lose an inch of that distance on which his life depended. He had run nearly half way across the plain when the sound of pursuit grew somewhat fainter,, and he ventured to turn his head. The main body of his pursuers were a considerable distance behind ; several of the fastest runners were scattered in the ad- vance ; while a swift-footed warrior, armed with a spear, was not more than a hundred yards behind him. Inspired with new hope. Colter redoubled his exertions, but strained himself to such a de- gree that the blood gushed from his mouth and nostrils, and streamed down his breast. ! B Vun tor Xite 1, s m 309 He arrived within a mile of the river. The sound of footsteps gathered upon him. A glance behind showed his pursuer within twenty yards, and preparing to launch his spear. Stopping short he turned round and spread out his arms. The savage, confounded by this sudden action, attempted to stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the very act. His spear stuck in the ground, and the shaft broke in his hand. Colter plucked up the pointed part, pinned the savage to the earth, and con- tinued his flight. The Indians, as they arrived at their slaughtered companion, stopped to howl over him. Colter made the most of this precious delay, gained the skirt of cottonwood bordering th^. river, dashed through it, and plunged into che vStream. He swam to a neigh- boring island, against the upper end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as to form a natural raft ; under this he dived, and swam below water until he succeeded in getting a breathing place between the floating trunks of trees, whose branches and bushes formed a covert several feet above the level of the water. He had scarcely drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his pursuers on the river bank, whooping and yelling like so many fiends. They plunged in the river, and swam to the raft. The heart of Colter almost died VOL. I. — 14 :i J i1 ! ' l( } •1 ' :i % . ! 2IO Betotfa hi I Ml within him as he saw them, through the chinks of his concealment, passing and repassing, and seeking for him in all directions. They at length gave up the search, and he began to rejoice in his escape, when the idea presented itself that they might set the raft on fire. Here was a new source of horrible apprehension, in which he remained until nightfall. Fortu- nately the idea did not suggest itself to the Indians. As soon as it was dark, finding by the silence that his pursuers had departed, Colter dived again and came up beyond the raft. He then swam silently down the river for a considerable distance, when he landed, and kept on all night, to get as far as possible from this dangerous neighborhood. By daybreak he had gained sufficient dis- tance to relieve him from the terrors of his savage foes ; but now new sources of inquietude presented themselves. He was naked and alone, in the midst of an unbounded wilder- ness ; his only chance was to reach a trading post of the Missouri Company, situated on a branch of the Yellowstone River. Even should he elude his pursuers, days must elapse before he could reach this post, during which he must traverse immense prairies destitute of shade, his naked body exposed to the burning heat of the sun by day, and the dews and chills of I S>anderd atiD DifScuItfcd the night season, and his feet lacerated by the thorns of the prickly pear. Though he might see game in abundance around him, he had no means of killing any for his sustenance, and must depend for food upon the roots of the earth. In defiance of these difficulties he pushed resolutely forward, guiding himself in his trackless course by those signs and indica- tions known only to Indians and backwoods- men ; and after braving dangers and hardships enough to break down any spirit but that of a western pioneer, arrived safe at the solitary post in question. * Such is a sample of the rugged experience which Colter had to relate of savage life ; yet, with all these perils and terrors fresh in his recollection, he could not see the present band on their way to those regions of danger and adventure, without feeling a vehement impulse to join them. A western trapper is like a sailor ; past hazards only stimulate him to further risks. The vast prairie is to the one what the ocean is to the other, a boundless field of enterprise and exploit. However he may have suffered in his last cruise, he is always ready to join a new expedition ; and the more adventurous its nature, the more attrac- tive is it to his vagrant spirit. ♦Bradbury, Travels in America^ p. 17. -. •». if\ -;?: li i:k % iX ;i ' i ■ < i1 i,'i 212 Betocia Nothing seems to have kept Colter from continuing with the party to the shores of the Pacific but the circumstance of his having re- cently married. All the morning he kept with them, balancing in his mind the charms of his bride against those of the Rocky Mountains ; the former, however, prevailed, and after a march of several miles, he took t. reluctant leave of the travellers, and turned his face homeward. Continuing their progress up the Missouri, the party encamped on the evening of the 2i$t of March, in the neighborhood of a little fron- tier village of French Creoles. Here Pierre Dorion met wuth some of his old comrades, with whom he had a long gossip, and returned to the camp with rumors of bloody feuds be- tween the Osages and the loways, or Ayaways, Potowatomies, Sioux, and Sawkees. Blood had already been shed, and scalps been taken. A war party, three hundred strong, were prowl- ing in the neighborhood ; others might be met with higher up the river ; it behooved the travellers, therefore, to be upon their guard against robbery or surprise, for an Indian war- party on the march is prone to acts of outrage. In consequence of this report, which w^as subsequently confirmed by further intelligence, a guard was kept up at night round the en- Bcri\^a[ at jfoct ^eage. 213 campment, and they all slept on their arms. As they were sixteen in riumber, and well sup- plied with weapons and ammunition, they trusted to be able to give any mai aiding party a warm reception. Nothing occurred, how- ever, to molest them on their voyage, and on the 8th of April they came in sight of Fort Osage. On their approach the flag was hoisted on the fort, and they saluted it by a discharge of fire-arms. Within a short distance of the fort was an Osage village, the inhabitants of which, men, women, and children, thronged down to the water side to witness their land- ing. One of the first persons they met on the river bank was Mr. Crooks, who had come down in a boat, with nine men, from the win- ter encampment at Nodowa, to meet them. They remained at Fort Osage a part of three days, during which they were hospitably en- tertained at the garrison by lyieutenant Brown- son, who held a temporary command. They were regaled also with a war-feast at the vil- lage ; the Osage warriors having returned from a successful foray against the loways, in which they had taken seven scalps. They were paraded on poles about the village, fol- lowed hy the warriors decked out in all their savage ornaments, and hideously painted as if for battle. . < w. ;.*■'•. .* iw 1! '•> J^ {' n II W'9 214 Bdtorfa By the Osage warriors, Mr. Hunt and his companions were again warned to be on their guard in ascending the river, as the Sioux tribe meant to lay in wait and attack them. On the loth of April they again embarked their party, being now augmented to twenty- six, by the addition of Mr. Crooks and his boat's crew. They had not proceeded far, however, when there was a great outcry from one of the boats ; it was occasioned by a little domestic discipline in the Dorion family. The squaw of the worthy interpreter, it appeared, had been so delighted with the scalp-dance, and other festivities of the Osage village, that she had taken a strong inclination to remain there. This had been as strongly opposed by her liege lord, who had compelled her to em- bark. The good dame had remained sulky ever since, whereupon Pierre, seeing no other mode of exorcising the evil spirit out of her, and being, perhaps, a little inspired by whis- key, had resorted to the Indian remedy of the cudgel, and before his neighbors could inter- fere, had belabored her so soundly, that there is no record of her having shown any refrac- tory symptoms throughout the remainder of the expedition. For a week they continued their voyage, exposed to almost incessant rains. The bodies ./ 1 Sutl*-.% .ri ■i y -■;■.,/ , ^"> ''I' %\> M Cbaptcr flDf . Return of Spring— Renewal of the Voyage — Night Kncampments — Platte River — Ceremonials on Pass- ing it — Signs of Indian War Parties — Magnificent Prospect at Papillion Creek — Desertion of Two Hunters — Village of the Omahas— Story of Black- bird, the Famous Omaha Chief. THE weather continued rainy and unge- nial for some days after Mr. Hunt's return to Nodowa ; yet spring was rapidly advancing and vegetation was putting forth with all its early freshness and beauty. The snakes began to recover from their torpor and crawl forth into day, and the neighborhood of the wintering house seems to have been much infested with them. Mr. Bradbury, in the course of his botanical re- searches, found a surprising number in a half torpid state, under flat stones upon the banks which overhung the cantonment, and nar- rowly escaped being struck by a rattlesnake, 217 •li I '\ ' r ■ f! ^ Ml i 2l8 Bdtocia M which darted at him from a cleft in the rock, but fortunately gave him warning by his rattle. The pigeons, too, were filling the woods in vast migratory flocks. It is almost incredible to descritle the prodigious flights of these birds in the western wildernesses. They ap- pear absolutely in clouds, and move with as- tonishing velocity, their wings making a whistling sound as they fly. The rapid evo- lutions of these flocks, wheeling and shifting suddenly as if with one mind and one impulse ; the flashing chprges of color they present, as their backs, their breasts, or the under part of their wings are turned to the spectator, are singularly pleasing. When they alight, if on the ground, they cover whole acres at a time ; if upon trees, the branches often break be- neath their weight. If suddently startled while feeding in the midst of a forest, the noise they make in getting on the wing is like the roar of a cataract or the sound of distant thunder. A flight of this kind, like an Egyptian flight of locusts, devours everything that serves for its food as it passes along. So great were the numbers in the vicinity of the camp that Mr. Bradbury, in the course of a morning's excur- sion, shot nearly three hundred with a fowling- ^11 'Renewal of the IDo^age 219 piece. He gives a curious, though apparently a faithful, account of the kind of discipline observed in these immense flocks, so that each may have a chance of picking up food. As the front ranks must meet with the greatest abundance, and the rear ranks must have scanty pickings, the instant a rank finds itself the hindmost, it rises in the air, flies over the whole flock, and takes its place in the ad- vance. The next rank follows in its course, and thus the last is continually becoming first, and all by turns have a front place at the banquet. The rains having at length subsided, Mr. Hunt broke up the encampment and resumed his course up the Missouri. The party now consisted of nearly sixty per- sons of whom five were partners, one, John Reed, was a clerk ; forty were Canadian ** voy- ageui's " or " engagis, ' ' and there were several hunters. They embarked in four boats, one of which was of a large size, mounting a swivel and twc' howitzers. All were furnished with masts ?,nd sails, to be used when the wind was sufficiently favorable and strong to overpower the current of the river. Such was the case for the first four or five days, when they were wafted steadily up the stream by a strong south- easter. Their encampmer at night were often \ }\ ll I. 1: i f i '■ M ll in ■^i i^!^ 220 Betoria - t \\ pleasant and picturesque : on some beautiful bank, beneath spreading trers, which aflforded them shelter and fuel. The tents were pitched, the fires made, and the meals prepared by the voyageurs, and many a story was told, and joke passed, and song sung round the evening fire. All, however, were asleep at an early hour. Some under the tents, others wrapped in blank- ets before the fire, or beneath the trees ; and some few in the boats and canoes. On the 28th, they breakfasted on one of the islands which lie at the mouth of the Nebraska or Platte River — the largest tributary of the Missouri, and about six hundred miles above its confluence with the Mississippi . This broad but shallow stream flows for an immense distance through a wide and verdant valley scooped out of boundless prairies. It draws its main supplies, by several forks or branches, from the Rocky Mountains. The mouth of this river is established as the dividing point between the upper and lower Missouri ; and the earlier voyagers, in their toilsome ascent, before the introduction of steamboats, con- sidered one half of their labors accomplished when they reached this place. The passing of the mouth of the Nebraska, therefore, was equivalent among boatmen to the crossing of the line among sailors, and was celebrated with Sfdns of Mar parties 221 like ceremonials of a rough and waggish nature practised upon the uninitiated ; among which was the old nautical joke of shaving. The river deities, however, like those of the sea, were to be propitiated by a bribe, and the infliction of these rude honors to be parried by a treat to the adepts. At the mouth of the Nebraska new signs were met with of war parties which had recently been in the vicinity. There was the frame of a skin canoe, in which the warriors had traversed the river. At night, also, the lurid reflection of immense fires hung in the sky, showing the conflagration of great tracts of the prairies. Such fires not being made by hunters so late, in the season, it was supposed they were caused by some wandering war parties. These often take the precaution to set the prairies on fire behind them to conceal their traces from their enemies. This is chiefly done when the party has been unsuccessful, and is on the retreat and apprehensive of pur- suit. At such time it is not safe even for friends to fall in with them., as they are apt to be in savage humor, and disposed to vent their spleen in capricious outrage. These signs, therefore, of a band of marauders on the prowl, called for some degree of vigilance on the part of the travellers. * 1^' 1 n ^{ i I- . (I I 'I 222 B0torfa After passing the Nebraska, the party halted for part of two days on the bank of the river, a little above Papillion Creek, to supply them- selves with a stock of oars and poles from the tough wood of the ash, which is not met with higher up the Missouri. While the voyagers were thus occupied, the naturalists rambled over the adjacent country to collect plants. From the summit of a range of bluffs on the opposite side of the river, about two hundred and fifty feet high, they had one of those vast and magnificent prospects which sometimes unfold themselves in those boundless regions; Below them was the Valley of the Missouri, about seven miles in breadth, clad in the fresh verdure of spring ; enamelled with flowers and interspersed with clumps and groves of noble trees, between which the mighty river poured its turbulent and turbid stream. The interior of the country presented a peculiar scene ; the immense waste being broken up by innumer- able green hills, not above eight feet in height, but extremely steep, and actually pointed at their summits. A long line of bluffs extended for upwards of thirty miles parallel to the Missouri, with a shallow lake stretching along their base, which had evidently once formed a bed of the river. The surface of this lake was covered with aquatic plants, on the broad leaves 'Bcecttion ot XLwo tynntctB 223 of which numbers of water-sr akes, drawn forth by the genial warmth of spring, were basking in the sunshine. On the 2d day of May, at the usual hour of embarking, the camp was thrown into some confusion by two of the hunters, named Har- rington, expressing their intention to abandon the expedition and return home. One of these had joined the party in the preceding autumn, having been hunting for two years on the Missouri ; the other had engaged at St. lyouis, in the following March, and had come up from thence with Mr. Hunt. He now declared that he had enlisted merely for the purpose of follow- ing his brother, and persuading him to return ; having been enjoined to do so by his mother, whose anxiety had been awakened by the idea of his going on such a wild and distant expe- dition. The loss of two stark hunters and prime riflemen was a serious affair to the party, for they were approaching the region where they might expect hostilities from the Sioux ; in- deed, throughout the whole of their perilous journey, the services of such men would be all important, for little reliance was to be placed upon the valor of the Canadians in case ot attack. Mr. Hunt endeavored by arguments, expostulations, and entreaties, to shake the [ I y M ! til ' II' a ■ ■ v 224 B0tocfa § ! determination of the two brothers. He repre- sented to them that they were between six and seven hundred miles above the mouth of the Missouri ; that they would have four hundred miles to go before they could reach the habi- tation of a white man, throughout which they would be exposed to ail kinds of risks ; since, he declared, if they persisted in abandoning him and breaking their faith, he would not furnish them with a single round of ammuni- tion. All was in vain ; they obstinately per- sisted in their resolution ; whereupon, Mr. Hunt, partly incited by indignation, partly by the policy of deferring others from desertion, put his threat into execution, and left them to find their way back to the settlement without, as he supposed, a single bullet or charge of powder. The boats now continued their slow and toil- some course for several days against the cur- rent of the river. The late signs of roaming war parties caused a vigilant watch to be kept up at night when the crews encamped on shore ; nor was this vigilance superfluous ; for on the night of the seventh instant, there was a wild and fearful yell, and eleven Sioux war- riors, stark naked, with tomahawks in their hands, rushed into camp. They were instantl}'' surrounded and seized, whereupon their leader called out to his followers to desist from any ¥ TKIlild Intrusion in Camp 225 violence, and pretended to be perfectly pacific in his intentions. It proved, however, that they were a part of the war party, the skeleton of whose canoe had been seen at the mouth of the river Platte, and the reflection of whose fires had been descried in the air. They had been disappointed or defeated in the foray, a;.d ill their rage and mortification these eleven warriors had "devoted their clothes to the medicine.'* This is a desperate act of Indian braves when foiled in war, and in dread of scoffs and sneers. In such case they some- times throw off their clothes and ornaments, devote themselves to the Great Spirit, and attempt some reckless exploit with which to cover their disgrace. Woe to any defenceless party of white men that may then fall in their way ! Such was the explanation given by Pierre Dorion, the half-breed interpreter, of this wild intrusion into the caipp ; and the party was so exasperated when apprised of the sanguin- ary intentions of the prisoners, that they were for shooting them on the spot. Mr. Hunt, however, exerted his usual moderation and humanity, and ordered that they should be conveyed across the river in one of the boats, threatening them, however, with certain death, if again caught in any hostile act. VOL. I— IJ ;i I 996 Bdtocfa 'i V 1 ) On the loth of May the party arrived at the Omaha (pronounced Omawhaw) village, about eight hundred and thirty miles above the mouth of the Missouri, and encamped in its neighborhood. The village was situated under a hill on the bank of the river, and consisted of about eighty lodges. These were of a circular .''nd conical form, and about sixteen feet in diameter ; being mere tents of dressed buffalo skins, sewed together and stretched on long poles inclined towards each other so as to cross at about half iheir height. Thus the naked tops ♦"f the poles diverge in such a manner that, if they were covered with skins like the lower ends, the tent would be shaped like an hour-glass, and present the appearance of one cone inverted on the apex of another. The forms of Indian lodges are worthy of attention, each tribe having a different mode of shaping and arranging them, so that it is easy to tell, on seeing a lodge or an encamp- ment at a distance, to what tribe the inhabi- tants belong. The exterior of the Omaha lodges have often a gay and fanciful appear- ance, being painted with undiilating bands of red or yellow, or decorated with rude figures of horses, deer, and buffaloes, and with human faces, painted like full moons, fc ir and five feet broad. (Tbe InMan TTrfbed on tbe Aiddouri 227 The Omahas were once one of the numerous and powerful tribes of the prairies, vying in warlike might and prowess with the Sioux, Pawnees, the Sauks, the Konzas, and the latans. Their wars with the Sioux, however, had thinned their ranks, and the small-pox in 1802 had swept off two thirds of their number. At the time of Mr. Hunt's visit they still boasted about two hundred warriors and hunt- ers, but they are now fast melting away, and before long, will be numbered among those extinguished nations of the west that exist but in tradition. In his cornispondence with Mr. Astor, from this point of his journey, Mr. Hunt gives a sad account of the Indian tribes bordering on the river. They were in continual war with each other, and their wars were of the most harass- ing kind ; consisting, not merely of main con- flicts and expeditions of moment, involving the sackings, burning^, and massacres of towns and villages, but of individual acts of treach- ery, murder, and cold-blooded cruelty ; or of vaunting and foolhardy exploits of single war- riors, either to avenge some personal wrong, or gain the vainglorious trophy of a scalp. The lonely hunter, the wandering wayfarer, the poor squaw cutting wood or gathering corn, was liable to be surprised and slaughtered. :H ( 1 (1 228 Bstoria III this way tribes were either swept away at once, Of gradually thinned out, and savage life was surrounded with constant horrors and alarms. That the race of red men should diminish from year to year, and so few should survive of the numerous nations which evi- dently once peopled the vast regions of the west, is nothing surprising ; it is rather matter of surprise that so many should survive ; for the existence of a savage in these parts seems little better than a prolonged and all-besetting death. It is, in fact, a caricature of the boasted romance of feudal times ; chivalry in its native and uncultured state, and knight- errantry run wild. In their most prosperous days, the Omahas looked upon themselves as the most powerful and perfect of human beings, and considered all created things as made for their peculiar use and benefit. It is this tribe of whose chief, the famous Wash-ing-guh-sah-ba, or Black- bird, such savage and romantic stories are told. He had died about ten years previous to the arrival of Mr. Hunt's party, but his name was still mentioned with awe by his people. He was one of the first among the Indian chiefs on the Missouri to deal with the white traders, and showed great sagacity in levying his royal dues. When a trader arrived in his village, JSlacftbir^t tbe ®maba Cbiet 939 he caused all his goods to be brought into his lodge and opened. From these he selected whatever suited his sovereign pleasure ; blank- ets, tobacco, v^hiskey, powder, ball, beads, and red paint ; and laid the articles on one 3ide, without deigning to give any compensa- tion. Then calling to him his herald or crier, he would order him to mount on top of the lodge and summon all the tribe to bring in their peltries, and trade with the white man. The lodge would soon be crowded with Indians bringing bear, beaver, otter, and other skins. No one was allowed to dispute the prices fixed by the white trader upon his articles ; who took care to indemnify himself five times over for the goods set apart by the chief. In this way the Blackbird enriched him- self and enriched the white men, and be- came exceedingly popular among the traders of the Missouri. His people, however, were not equally satisfied by a regulation of trade which worked so manifestly against them, and began to show signs of discontent. Upon this a crafty and unprincipled trader revealed a secret to the Blackbird, by which he might acquire unbounded sway over his ignorant and superstitious subjects. He instructed him in the poisonous qualities of arsenic, and fur- nished him with an ample supply of that bane- I! :ii 830 B0torta ful drug. From this time the Blackbird seemed endowed with supernatural powers, to possess the gift of prophecy, and to hold the disposal of life and death within his hands. Woe to any one who questioned his authority or dared to dispute his commands ! The Black- bird prophesied his death within a certain time, and he had the secret means of verifying his prophecy. Within the fated period the offender was smitten with strange and sudden disease, and perished from the face of the earth. Every one stood aghast at these multi- plied examples of his superhuman might, and dreaded to displease so omnipotent and vindic- tive a being ; and the Blackbird enjoyed a wide and undisputed sway. It was not, however, by terror alone that he ruled his people ; he was a warrior of the first order, and his exploits in arms were the theme of young and old. His career had begun by hardships, having been taken prisoner by the Sioux, in early youth. Under his command, the Oniahas obtained great character for mili- tary prowess ; nor did he permit an insult or an injury to one of his tribe to pass unrevenged. The Pawnee republicans had inflicted a gross indignity on a favorite and distinguished Omaha brave. The Blackbird assembled his warriors, led them against the Pawnee town, I J91aclibtrO'0 prowe00 231 attacked it with irresistible fury, slaughtered a great number of its inhabitants, and burnt it to the ground. He waged fierce and bloody war against the Ottoes for many years, until peace was effected between them by the mediation of the whites. Fearless in battle, and fond of signalizing himself, he dazzled his followers by daring acts. In attacking a Kanza village, he rode singly round it, loading and discharg- ing his rifle at the inhabitants as he galloped past them. He kept up in war the same idea of mysterious and supernatural power. At one time, when pursuing a war party by their tracks across the prairies, he repeatedly dis- charged his rifle into the prints made by their feet and by the hoofs of their horses, assuring his followers that he would thereby cripple the fugitives, so that they would easily be over- taken. He in fact did overtake them, and de- stroyed them almost to a man ; and his victory was considered miraculous both by friend and foe. By these and similar exploits, he made himself the pride and boast of his people, and became popular among them, notwithstanding his death-denouncing fiat. With aii his savage and terrific qualities, he was sensible of the power of female beauty, and capable of love. A war party of the Poncas had made a foray into the lands of the Omahas, ^*'- 232 B0torfa and carried off a number of women and horses. The Blackbird was rouse^ to fury, and took the field with all hi;^ braves, swearing to "eat up the Ponca nation " — the Indian threat of exterminating war. The Poncas, sorely pressed took refuge behind a rude bulwark of earth ; but the Blackbird kept up so galling a fire, that he seemed likely to execute his menace. In their extremity they sent forth a herald, bearing the calumet or pipe of peace, but he was shot down by order of the Blackbird. Another herald was sent forth in similar guise, but he shared a like fate. The Ponca chief then, as a last hope, arrayed his beautiful daughter in her finest ornaments, and sent her forth with a calumet, to sue for peace. The charms of the Indian maid touched the stern heart of the Blackbird ; he accepted the pipe at her hand, smoked it, and from that time a peace took place between the Poncas and the Omahas. This beautiful damsel, in all probability, was the favorite wife whose fate makes so tragic an incident in the story of the Blackbird. Her youth and beauty had gained an absolute sway over his rugged heart, so that he distinguished her above all his other wives. The habitual gratification of his vindictive impulses, how- ever, had taken away from him all mastery JSlacIibfrd'd Crime 233 over his passions, and rendered him liable to the most furious transports of rage. In one of these his beautiful wife had the misfortune to offend him, when suddenly drawing his knife, he laid her dead at his feet with a single blow. In an instant his frenzy was at an end. He gazed for a time in mute bewilderment upon his victim ; then drawing his buffalo robe over his head, he sat down beside the corpse, and remained brooding over his crime and his loss. Three days elapsed, yet the chief continued silent and motionless ; tasting no food, and ap- parently sleepless. It was apprehended that he intended to starve himself to death ; his people approached him in trembling awe, and entreated him once more to uncover his face and be comforted ; but he remained unmoved. At length one of his warriors brought in a small child, and laying it on the ground placed the foot of the Blackbird upon its neck. The heart of the gloomy savage was touched by this appeal ; he threw" aside his robe ; made an harangue upon what he had done ; and from that time forward seemed to have thrown the load of grief and remorse from his mind. He still retained his fatal and mysterious secret, and with it his terrific power ; but, though able to deal death to his enemies, he could not avert it from himself or his friends. f. iH hf .^f if < ; I f ! ; iU i i1\ J 234 B0totfa s In 1S02 the small-pox, that dreadful pestilence, which swept over the land like a fire iver the prairie, made its appearance in the village of the Omahas. The poor savages saw with dis- may the ravages of a malady, loathsome and agonizing in its details, and which set the skill and experience of their conjurers and medicine men at defiance. In a little while, two thirds of the population were swept from the face of the earth, and the doom of the rest seemed sealed. The stoicism of the warriors was at an end ; they became wild and desperate ; some set fire to the village as a last means of checking the pestilence ; others, in a frenzy of despair, put their wives and children to death, that they might be spared the agonies of an inevitable disease, and that they might all go to some better country. When the general horror and dismay was at its height, the Blackbird himself was struck down with the malady. The poor savages, when they saw their chief in danger, forgot their own miseries, and surrounded his dying bed. His dominant spirit, and his love for the white men, were evinced in his latest breath, with which he designated his place of sepulture. It was to be on a hill or promontory, upwards of four hundred feet in height, overlooking a great extent of the Missouri, from whence he JSurial of JSlacltbtrd 235 had been accustomed to watch for the barks of the white men. The Missouri washes the base of the promontory, and after winding and doubling in many links and mazes in the plain below, returns to within nine hundred yards of its starting-place ; so that for thirty miles navigating with sail and oar, the voyager finds himself continually near to this singular prom- ontory as if spellbound. It was the dying command of the Blackbird that his tomb should be on the summit of this hill, in which he should be interred, seated on his favorite horse, that he might overlook his ancient domain, and behold the barks of the white men as they came up the river to trade with his people. His dying orders were faithfully obeyed. His corpse was placed astride of his war-steed and a mound raised over them on the summit of the hill. On top of the mound was erected a staff, from which fli^ttered the banner of the chieftain, and the scalps that he had taken in battle. When the expedition under Mr. Hunt visited that part of the country, the staff still remained, with the fragments of the banner ; and the superstitious rite of placing food from time to time on the mound, for the use of the deceased, was still observed by the Omahas. That rite has since fallen into disuse, for the m •vj 236 B0toria tribe itself is almost extinct. Yet the hill of the Blackbird continues an object of veneration to the wandering savage, and a landmark to the voyager of the Missouri ; and as the civil- ized traveller comes within sight of its spell- bound crest, the mound is pointed out to him from afar, which still incloses the grim skele- tons of the Indian warrior and his horse. i ' i ■'■! / Cbapter f \Dirir* Rumors of Danger from the Sioux Tetons — Pirates of the Missouri — Their Affair with Crooks and M'Lel- lan — M'l/ellan's Vow of Vengeance — Departure from the Omaha Village— Meeting with Jones and Carson, two Adven^^urous Trappers — Scientific Pur- suits of Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall — Adventure of Mr. Bradbury with a Ponca Indian — A Messenger from Lisa — Motives for Pressing Forward. WHIIyE Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the village of the Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton Ahna tribe arrived, bringing unpleasant intelligence. They re- ported that certain bands of the Sioux Tetons, who inhabited a region man}^ leagues farther up the Missouri, were near at hand, awaiting the approach of the party, with the avowed intention of opposing their progress. The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the Missouri, who considered the 237 |M . V I I- li < i i t ' h ■ ■ 'J 238 Batoria well-freighted bark of the American trader fair game. They had their own trafl&c with the British merchants of the Northwest, who brought them regular supplies of merchandise by way of the river St. Peter. Being thus independent of the Missouri traders for their suptplies, they kept no terms with them, but plundered them whenever they had an oppor- tunity. It has been insinuated that they were prompted to these outrages by the British mer- chants, who wished to keep off all rivals in the Indian trade ; but others allege another motive, and one savoring of a deeper policy. The Sioux, by their intercourse with the British traders, had acquired the use of fire-arms, which had given them vast superiority over other tribes higher up the Missouri. They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for .the upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly advanced prices, with goods derived from the white men. The Sioux, therefore, saw with jealousy the American traders pushing their way up the Missouri ; foreseeing that the upper tribes would thus be relieved from all dependence on them for sup- plies ; nay, what was worse, would be furnished with fire-arms, and elevated into formidable rivals. We have already alluded to a case in which pirated of tbe Aidsouri 239 Mr. Crooks and Mr. M'Lellan had been inter- rupted in a trading voyage by these rufl&ans of the river, and, as it is in some degree con- nected with circumstances hereafter to be related, we shall specify it more particularly. About two years before the time of which we are treating. Crooks and M'lycUau were ajicending the river in boats with a party of about forty men, bound on one of their trading expeditions to the upper tribes. In one of the bends of the river, where the channel made a deep curve under impending banks, they sud- denly heard yells and shouts above them, and beheld the cliffs overhead covered with armed savages. It was a band of Sioux warriors, upwards of six hundred strong. They bran- dished their weapons in a menacing manner, and ordered the boats to turn back and land lower down the river. There was no disputing these commands, for they had the power to shower destruction upon the white men with- out risk to themselves. Crooks and M' Lallan , therefore, turned back with feigned alacrit}', and, landing, had an interview with the Sioux. The latter forbade ^^'='m, under pain of exter- minating hostility, from attempting to proceed up the river, but offered to trade peacefully with them if they would halt where they were. The party, being principally composed of / m ■p 240 B0torta voyageurs^ was too weak to contend with so superior a force, and one so easily augmented ; they pretended, therefore, to comply cheer- fully with their arbitrary dictation, and im- mediately i-^oceeded to cut down trees and ert 1 a ,Kddt: g house. The warrior band de- pm i lOi heir village, which was about twenty miles distant to collect objects of traffic ; they left six or eight of their number, however, to keep watch upon the white iiien, and scouts were continually passing to and fro with intelligence. Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute his voyage without the danger of having his boats plundered, and a great part of his men massacred ; he determined, how- ever, not to be entirely frustrated in the objects of his expedition. While he continued, there- fore, with great apparent earnestness and assi- dnity, the construction of the trading house, he despatched the hunters and trappers of his party in a canoe, to make their way up the river to the original place of destination, there to busy themselves in trapping and collecting peltries, and to await his arrival at some future period. As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend beyond the hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly broke up his A'XeIIan'0 \Dow 241 feigned trading establishment, embarked his men and effects, f id, after giving the aston- ished rear-guard of savages a galling and in- dignant message to take to their countrymen, pUbued down the river with all speed, sparing neither oar nor paddle, day nor night, until fairly beyond the swoop of these river hawks. What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan, at this mortifyiii,< c eck to their gainful enterprise, was the in irn. ion that a rival trader was at the bottor f l ; the Sioux, it is said, having been instigate., to this outrage by Mr. Manuel Lisa, the lea* '^1% partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company, al- ready mentioned. This intelligence, whether true or false, so roused the fiery temper of M'lyellaiv, that he swore, if ever he fell in with lyisa in the Indian country, he would shoot him on the spot ; a mode of redress perfectly in unison v/ith the character of the man, and the code ot honor prevalent beyond the frontier. If Crooks and MXellan had been exasper- ated by the insolent conduct of the Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had occasioned, those freebooters had been no less indignant at being outwitted by the white men, and dis- appointed of their anticipated g.ains, and it was apprehended they would be particularly hostile against the present expedition, when they VOL. I.--16 242 Bdtoria should learn that these gentlemen were engaged in it. All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as possible from the Canadian voya- geurs^ lest they should become intimidated ; it was impossible, however, to prevent the ru- mors brought by the Indians from leaking out, and they became subjects of gossiping and exaggeration. The chief of the Omahas, too, on returning from a hunting excursion, reported that two men had been killed some distance above, by a band qi Sioux. This added to the fears that already began to be excited. The voyageurs pictured to themselves bands of fierce warriors stationed along each bank of the river, by whom they would be ex- posed to be shot down in their boats ; or lurk- ing hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre them in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to return, rather than fight their way, and, in a manner, run the gauntlet through the country of these piratical marauders. In fact, three men deserted while at this village. I^uckily, their place was sup- plied by three others who happened to be there, and who were prevailed on to join the expedi- tion by promise of liberal pay, and by being fitted out and equipped in complete style. The irresolution and discontent visible among XXncMineee in tbe Camp 243 iome some of his people, arising at times almost to mutiny, and the occasional desertions which took place while thus among friendly tribes, and within reach of the frontiers, added greatly to the anxieties of Mr. Hunt, and rendered him eager to press forward and leave a hostile tract behind him, so that it would be as peril- ous to return as to keep on, and no one would dare to desert. Accordingly, on the i5tli of May he departed from the village o^ the Omahas, and set for- ward towards the country of the formidable Sioux Tetons. For the first five days they had a fair and fresh breeze, and the boats made good progress. The wind then came ahead, and the river beginning to rise, and to increase in rapidity, betokened the commencement of the annual flood, caused by the melting of the snow on the Rocky Mountains, and the vernal rains of the upper prairies. As they were now entering a region where foes might be lying in wait on either bank, it was determined in hunting for game, to confine themselves principally to the islands, which extend to considerable length, and are beautifully wooded, affording abundant pas- turage and shade. On one of these they killed three buffaloes and two elks, and halting on the edge of a beautiful prairie, made a sump- ■•I i I V] n ' i : ill I' i 1' I 844 Betocia l_. tuous hunter's repast. They had not long resumed their boats and pulled along the river banks when they descried a canoe approaching, navigated by two men, whom, to their surprise, they ascertained to be white men. They proved to be two of those strange and fearless wan- derers of the wilderness, the trappers. Their names were Benjamin Jones and Alexander Carson. They had been for two years past hunting and trapping near the head of the Missouri, and were thus floating for thousands of miles in a cockle-shell, down a turbulent stream, through regions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy and unconcerned as if navigating securely in the midst of civili- zation. The acquisition of two such hardy, experi- enced, and dauntless hunters was peculiarly desirable at the present moment. They needed but little persuasion. The wilderness is the home of the trapper ; like the sailor, he cares but little to which point of the compass he steers ; and Jones and Carson readily aban- doned their voyage to St. Louis, and turned their faces towards the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific. The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall, who had joined the expedition at St. Ivouis, still accompanied it, and pursued their tf' Xcnl of a JSotanidt 245 researches on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall seems to have been exclusively devoted to his scien- tific pursuits. He was a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was awakened at beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe of unknown flowers. When- ever the boats landed at meal times, or for any temporary purpose, he would spring on shore, and set out on a hunt for new specimens. Every plant or flower of a rare or unknown species was eagerly seized as a prize. Delighted with the treasures spreading themselves out before him, he went groping and stumbling along among the wilderness of sweets, forgetful of everything but his immediate pursuit, and had often to be sought after when the boats were about to resume their course. At such times he would be found far off in the prairies, or up the course of some petty stream laden with plants of all kinds. The Canadian voyageurs^ who are a class of people that know nothing out of their imme- di? te line, and with constitutional levity make a jfcst of anything they cannot understand, were f^xtremely puzzled by this passion for col- lecting what they considered mere UFeless weeds. When they saw the worthy b(»ianist coming back heavy laden with his specimens, 1 . r \ x I • I f «;' 246 Bdtocia and treasuring them up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, they used to make merry among themselves at his expense, regarding him as some whimsical kind of madman. Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and combined the hunter and sportsman with the naturalist. He took his rifle or his fowling-piece with him in his geo- logical researches, conformed to the hardy and rugged habits of the men around him, and of course gained favor in their eyes. He had a strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious in observing savage manners, and savage life, and ready to join any hunting or other excursion. Even now, that the expedi- tion was proceeding through a dangerous neighborhood^ he could not check his propen- sity to ramble. Having observed, on the evening of the 226. of May, that the river ahead made a great bend which would take up the navigation of the following day, he deter- mined to profit by the circumstance. On the morning of the 23d, therefore, instead of em- barking, he filled his shot-pouch with parched corn, for provisions, and set off to cross the neck on foot and meet the boats in the after- noon at the opposite side of the bend. Mr. Hunt felt uneasy at his venturing thus alone, Ar. J3cadbun?'i3 Bdrenture 247 and reminded him that he was in an enemy's country ; but Mr. Bradbury made light of the danger, and started ofif cheerily upon his ram- ble. His day was passed pleasantly in trav- ersing a beautiful tract, making botanical and geological researches, and observing the habits of an extensive village of prairie dogs, at which he made several ineffectual shots, without considering the risk he ran of attract- ing the attention of any savages that might be lurking in the neighborhood. In fact, he had totally forgotten the Sioux Tetons, and all the other perils of the country, when, about the middle of the afternoon, as he stood near the river bank, and was looking out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his shoulder. Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage with a bow bent, and the arrow pointed at his bi east. In an instant his gun was lev- elled and his hand upon the lock. The Indian drew his bow still farther, but forebore to launch the shaft. Mr. Bradbury, with admir- able presence of mind, reflected that the savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him without giving him a chance of defence ; he paused, therefore, and held out his hand. The other took it in sign of friendship, and de- manded in the Osage language whether he was a Big Knife, or American. He answered ill 248 Bdtocia in the affirmative, and inquired whether the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found that he was a Ponca. By this time two other Indians came running up, and all three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and seemed disposed to compel him to go off with them among the hills. He resisted, and sitting down on a sand hill contrived to amuse them with a pocket compass. When the novelty of this was ex- hausted they again seized him, but he now produced a small microscope. This new won- der again fixed the attention of the savages, who have more curiousity than it has been the custom to allow them. While thus engaged, one of them suddenly leaped up and gave a war-whoop. The hand of the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was prepared to make battle, when the Indian pointed down the river and revealed the true cause of his yell. It was the mast of one of the boats appearing above the low willows which bordered the stream. Mr. Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by the sight. The Indians, on their part, now showed signs of apprehension, and were dis- posed to run away ; but he assured them of good treatment and something to drink if they would accompany him on board of the boats. They lingered for a time, but disappeared be- fore the boats came to land. ^ - A B IKsciecngev trom Xiea ' 249 On the following morning they appeared af camp accompanied by several of their tribe. With them came also a white man, who an- nounced himself as a messenger bearing mis- sives for Mr. Hunt. In fact, he brought a letter from Mr. Manuel Lisa, partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As has already been mentioned, this gentleman was going in search of Mr. Henry and his party, who had been dislodged from the forks of the Missouri by the Black feet Indians, and had shifted his post somewhere beyond the Rocky Mountains. Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after Mr. Hunt, and having heard of the hostile intentions of the Sioux, had made the greatest exertions to overtake him, that they might pass through the dangerous part of the river together. He had twenty stout oarsmen in his service, and they plied their oars so vigorously that he had reached the Omaha village just four days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he despatched the messenger in question, trusting to his overtaking the barges as they toiled up against the stream, and were delayed bj^ the windings of the river. The purport of his letter was to entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he come up with him, that they might unite their forces and be a protec- tion to each other in their perilous course ■1 'm hi ' i|i li y' ill "t ' ;i III J! M 950 Betotia through the country of the Sioux. In fact, as it was afterwards ascertained, Lisa was appre- hensive that Mr. Hunt would do him some ill office with the Sioux band, securing his own passage through their country by pretending that he, with whom they were accustomed to trade, was on his way to them with a plentiful supply of goods. He feared, too, that Crooks and M'Lellan would take this opportunity to retort upon him the perfidy which they accused him of having used, two years previously, among these very Sioux. In this respect, how- ever, he did them signal injustice. There was no such thing as covert design or treachery in their thought ; but M'Lellan, when he heard that Lisa was on his way up the river, renewed his open threat of shooting him the moment he met him on Indian land. The representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan of the treachery they had experi- enced, or fancied, on the part of Lisa, had great weight with Mr. Hunt, especially when he recollected the obstacles that had been thrown in his own way by that gentleman at St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, the fair dealing of Lisa, and feared that, should they enter the Sioux country together, the latter might make use of his influence with that tribe, as he had in the case of Crooks and 1>unrd Sudpiciona 251 .':? M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose his progress up the river. He sent bac - therefore, an answer calculated to beguile Lisa, assuring him that he would wait for him at the Poncas village, which was but a little distance in advance ; but, no sooner had the messenger departed, than he pushed forward with all diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure a supply of dried buffalo meat, and hastening to leav^e the other party as far behind as possible, thinking there was less to be apprehended from the open hostility of Indian foes than from the quiet strategy of an Indian trade r. in S'-'\ ^' I ,v J, Ij u\ ^1 Ul H Cbaptct f iDirinr* Camp Gossip — Kentucky Hunters — A Veteran Wood- man — Tidings of Mr. Henry — Danger from the Blackfeet— Country of the Sioux — A Land of Danger — A Council of War — A Parley — The Pipe of Peace. T was about noon when the party left the Poncas village, about a league beyond which they passed the mouth of the Qui- court, or Rapid River (called, in the origi- nal French, rea7i qui court). After having proceeded some distance farther, they landed, and encamped for the night. In the evening camp, the voyageurs gossiped, as usual, over the events of the day ; and especially over intelligence picked up among the Poncas. These Indians had confirmed the previous reports of the hostile intentions of the Sioux, and had assured them that five tribes, or bands, of that fierce nation were actually assembled higher up the river, and waiting to cut them off. This evening gossip, and the terrific 352 ^bcee ** 2>reaDnoudbt ** Icentuchiand 253 stories of Indian warfare to which it gave rise, produced a strong effect upon the imaginations of the irresolute ; and in the morning it was discovered that the two men, who had joined the party at the Omaha village, and been so bounteously fitted out, had deserted in the course of the night, carrying with them all their equipments. As it was known that one of them could not swim, it was hoped that the banks of the Quicourt River would bring them to a halt. A general pursuit was therefore instituted, but without success. On the following morning (May 26th), as they were all on shore, break fi stiir^ on one of the beautiful banks of the river, they observed two canoes descending along the opposite side. By the aid of spy-glasses, they ascertained that there were two white men in one of the canoes, and one in the other. A gun was discharged, which called the attention of the voyagers, who crossed over. They proved to be three Kentucky hunters, of the true * * dreadnought ' ' stamp. Their names were Kdward Robinson, John Hoback, and Jacob Rezner. Robinson was a veteran backwoodsman, sixty-six years of age. He had been one of the first settlers of Kentucky, and engaged in many of the con- flicts of the Indians on ** the Bloody Ground." In one of these battles he had been scalped, vy 1 254 Bstoria and he still wore a handkerchief bound round his head to protect the part. These men had passed several years in the upper wilderness. They had been in the service of the Missouri Company under Mr. Henry, and had crossed the Rocky Mountains with him in the preced- ing year, when driven from his post on the Missouri by the hostilities of the Blackfeet. After crossing the mountains, Mr. Henry had established himself on one of the head branches of the Columbia River. There they had re- remained with him some months, hunting and trapping, until, having satisfied their wander- ing propensities, they felt disposed to return to the families and comfortable homes which they had left in Kentucky. They had accordingly made their way back across the mountains, and down the rivers, and were in full career for St. Louis, when thus suddenly interrupted. The sight of a powerful party of traders, trap- pers, hunters, and voyageurs, well armed and equipped, furnished at all points, in high health and spirits, and banqueting lustily on the green margin of the river, was a spectacle equally stimulating to these veteran back- woodsmen with the glorious array of a cam- paigning army to an old soldier ; but when they learned the grand scope and extent of the enterprise in hand, it was irresistible ; homes B Hew "Route f',5 and families and all the charms of green Ken- tucky vanished from their thoughts ; they cast loose their canoes to drift down the stream, and joyfully enlisted in the band of adventur- ers. They engaged on vsimilar terms with some of the other hunters. The company was to fit them out, and keep them supplied with the requisite equipments and munitions, and they were to yield one half of the produce of their hunting and trapping. The addition of three such staunch recruits was extremely acceptable at this dangerous part of the river. The knowledge of the country which they had acquired, also, in their journeys and hunting excursions along the rivers and among the Rocky Mountains was all important ; in fact, the information derived from them induced Mr. Hunt to alter his future course. He had hitherto intended to proceed by the route taken by Lewis and Clarke in their famous exploring expedition, ascending the Missouri to its forks, and thence going, by land, across the mountains. These men informed him, however, that, on taking that course he would have to pass through the country infested by the savage tribe of the Blackfeet, and would be exposed to their hostilities ; they being, as has already been observed, exasperated to deadly animosity I i »f hi I it I ;! i;.J A «56 Betoria iim i r \ against the whites, on account of the death of one of their tribe by the hand of Captain Lewis. They advised him rather to pursue a route more to the southward, being the same by which they had returned. This would carry them over the mountains about where the head waters of the Platte and the Yellow- stone take their rise, at a place much more easy and practicable than that where Lewis and Clarke had crossed. In pursuing this course, also, he would pass through a country abounding with game, where he would have a better chance of procuring a constant supply of provisions than by the other route, and would run less risk of molestation from the Blackfeet. Should he adopt this advice, it would be better for him to abandon the river at the Arickara town, at which he would arrive in the course of a few days. As the Indians at that town possessed horses in abundance, he might purchajse a sufficient number of them for his great journey overland, which would commence at that place. After reflecting on this advice, and consult- ing with his associates, Mr. Hunt came to the determination to follow the route thus pointed out, to which the hunters engaged to pilot him. ' '■ i The party continued their voyage with de- '. \ Sccners of tbe IRWcx 257 lightful May weather. The prairies bordering on the river were gayly painted with innumer- able flowers, exhibiting the motley confusion of colors of a Turkey carpet. The beautiful islands, also, on which they occasionally halted, presented the appearance of mingled grove and garden. The trees were often covered with clambering grapevines in blossom, which perfumed the air. Between the stately masses of the groves were grassy lawns and glades, studded with flowers, or interspersed with rose-bushes in full bloom. These islands were often the resort of the buffalo, the elk, and the antelope, who had made innumerable paths among the trees and thickets, which had the effect of the mazy walks and alleys of parks and shrubberies. Sometimes, where the river passed between high banks and bluffs, the roads, made bv the tramp of buffaloes for many ages along the face of the heights, looked like so many well-travelled highways. At other places the banks were branded with great veins of iron ore, laid bare by the abrasion of the river. At one place the course of the river was nearly in a straight line for about fifteen miles. The banks sloped gently to its margin, without a single tree, but bordered with grass and herbage of a vivid green. Along each bank, for the whole fifteen miles, extended a VOL. 1.— 17 ^, ^^ \-^ ^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) '^ /, A IL WJ |30 *■■ 1' I.I 125 2.2 •tt B^o Hill 2.0 •^1 1.8 L25 IlliU iiiiii.6 ^ V] ^%.^ J> ./ /: "' if .i. ■> hi ''4 i'i' '\\ 1 i ■■ I 1 ■■:•'> I I n 262 Betorfa back, and some on foot. Reconnoitring them with the aid of glasses, they perceived that they were all in warlike arraj'^, painted and decorated for battle. Their weapons were bows and arrows, and a few short carbines, and most of them had round shields. Alto- gether they had a wild and gallant appearance, and, taking possession of a point which com- manded the river, ranged themselves along the bank as if prepared to dispute their passage. At sight of this formidable front of war, Mr. Hunt and his companions held counsel together. It was plain that the rumors they had heard were correct, and the Sioux were determined to oppose their progress by force of arms. To attempt to elude them and continue along the river was out of the question. The strength of the midcurrent was too violent to be with- stood, and the boats were obliged to ascend along the river banks. These banks were often high and perpendicular, affording the savages frequent stations, from whence, safe themselves and almost unseen, they might shower down their missiles upon the boats below, and retreat at will, without danger from pursuit. Nothing apparently remained, therefore, but to fight or turn back. The Sioux far out-numbered them, it is true, but their own party was about sixty strong, well armed and supplied with ammu- pceparattone toe Defence 263 nition ; and, beside their guns and rifles, they had a swivel and two howitzers mounted in the boats. Should they succeed in breaking this Indian force by one vigorous assault, it was likely they would be deterred from making any future attack of consequence. The fighting alternative was, therefore, instantly adopted, and the boats pulled to shore nearly opposite to the hostile force. Here the arms were all examined and put in order. The swivel and howitzers were then loaded with powder and discharged, to let the savages know by the report how formidably they were provided. The noise echoed along the shores of the river, and must have startled the warriors who were only accustomed to sharp reports of rifles. The same pieces were then loaded with as many bullets as they would probably bear ; after which the whole party embarked, and pulled across the river. The Indians remained watching them in silence, their painted forms and visages glaring in the sun, and their feathers fluttering in the breeze. The poor Canadians eyed them with rueful glances, and now and then a fearful ejaculation escaped them. " Parbleu ! this is a sad scrape we are in, brother! " one would mutter to the next oarsman. ** Aye, aye ! " the other would reply, ** we are not going to a wedaing, my friend ! " ill 964 Batoria I'li '^i II When the boats arrived within rifle-shot, the hunters and other fighting personages on board seized their weapons, and prepared for action. As they rose to fire, a confusion took place among the savages. They displayed their buffalo robes, raised them with both hands above their heads, and then spread them before them on the ground. At sight of this, Pierre Dorion eagerly cried out to the party not to fire, as this movement was a peaceful signal, and an invitation to a parley. Immediately about a dozen of the principal warriors, separat- ing from the rest, descended to the edge of the river, lighted a fire, seated themselves in a semi-circle round it, and displaying the calumet, invited the party to land. Mr. Hunt now called a council of the partners on board of his boat. The question was, whether to trust to the amicable overtures of these ferocious people ? It was determined in the affirmative ; for, otherwise, there was no alternative but to fight them. The main body of the party were ordered to remain on board of the boats, keep- ing within shot and prepared to fire in case of any signs of treachery ; while Mr. Hunt and the other partners (M*Kenzie, Crooks, Miller, and M'l^llan) proceeded to land, accompanied by the interpreter and Mr. Bradbury. The chiefs, who awaited them on the margin of the Zbc pipe or peace 265 river, remained seated in their semi-circle, with- out stirring a limb or moving a muscle, motion- less as so many statues. Mr. Hunt and his companions advanced without hesitation, and took their seats on the sand so as to complete the circle. The band of warriors who lined the banks above stood looking down in silent groups and clusters, some ostentatiously equipped and decorated, others entirely naked but fantasti- cally painted, and all variously armed. The pipe of peace was now brought forward with due ceremony. The bowl was of a species of red stone resembling porphyry ; the stem was six feet in length, decorated with tufts of horse-hair dyed red. The pipe-bearer stepped within the circle, lighted the pipe, held it towards the sun, then towards the different points of the compass, after which he handed it to the principal chief. The latter smoked a few whiffs, then, holding the head of the pipe in his hand, offered the other end to Mr. Hunt, and to each one successively in the circle. When all had smoked, it was considered that an assurance of good faith and amity had been interchanged. Mr. Hunt now made a speech in French, which was interpreted as he pro- ceeded by Pierre Dorion. He informed the Sioux of the real object of the expedition of himself and his companions, which was, not • 1 5 } m i^: a66 Batoria u I! to trade with any of the tribes up the river, but to cross the mountains to the great salt lake in the west, in search of some of their brothers, whom they had not seen for eleven months. That he had heard of the intention of the Sioux to oppose his passage, and was prepared, as they might see, to effect it at all hazards ; nevertheless, his feelings towards the Sioux were friendly, in proof of which he had brought them a present of tobacco and corn. So saying, he ordered about fifteen carottes of tobacco, and as many bags of corn, to be brought from the boat and laid in a heap near the council fire. The sight of these presents mollified the chieftain, who had, doubtless, been previously rendered considerate by the resolute conduct of the white men, the judicious disposition of their little armament, the completeness of their equipments, and the compact array of battle which they presented. He made a speech in reply, in which he stated the object of their hostile assemblage, which had been merely to prevent supplies of arms and ammunition from going to the Arickaras, Mandans, and Mina- tarees, with whom they were at war ; but now being convinced that the party were carrying no supplies of the kind, but merely proceeding in quest of their brothers beyond the moan- Bmicable CIO0e of tbe Conteccnce 367 tains, they would not impede them in their voyage. He concluded by thanking them for their present, and advising ther^ to encamp on the opposite side of the river, as he had some young men among his warriors for whose dis- cretion he could not be answerable, and who might be troublesome. Here ended the conference ; they all arose, shook hands and parted. Mr. Hunt and his companions re-embarked, and the boats pro- ceeded on their course unmolested. Mu m t 'i (I \i ! !' ii Cbaptec f If . The Great Bend of the Missouri — Crooks and M'Lel- lan Meet with Two of their Indian Opponents — Dangers and Precautions — An Indian War Party— A Friendly Encampment — Approach of Manuel Lisa and his Party — A Grim Meeting between Old Rivals. ON the afternoon of the following day (June I St) they arrived at the great bend, where the river winds for about thirty miles round a circular penin- sula, the neck of which is not above two thous- and yards across. On the succeeding morning, at an early hour, they descried two Indians standing on a high bank of the river, waving and spreading their buffalo robes in signs of amity. They immediately pulled to shore, and landed. Oi. approaching the savages, how- ever, the latter showed evident symptoms of alarm, spreading out their arms horizontally, according to their mode of supplicating clem- 368 i!i TTbe 1n5ian'0 Xaw ot Vcvcn^c 269 ency. The reason was soon explained. They proved to be two chiefs of the very war party that had brought Messrs. Crooks and M'lvellan to a stand two years before, and obliged them to escape down the river. They ran to embrace these gentlemen, as if delighted to meet with them ; yet they evidently feared some retalia- tion of their past misconduct, nor were they quite at ease until the pipe of peace had been smoked. Mr. Hunt having been informed that the tribe to which these men belonged had killed three white men during the preceding summer, reproached them with the crime, and demanded their reasons for such savage hostility. " We kill white men," replied one of the chiefs, " be- cause white men kill us. That very man," added he, pointing to Carson, one of the new recruits, '* killed one of our brothers last sum- mer. Three white men were slain to avenge his death." Their chief was correct in his reply. Carson admitted that, being with a party of Arickaras on the banks of the Missouri, and seeing a war party of Sioux on the opposite side, he had fired with his rifle across. It was a random shot, made without much expectation of effect, for the river was full half a mile in breadth. Unluckily it brought down a Sioux warrior, '% ? , •( i \ i. r 1 1 1 •r ill M I Si 1 I 270 Betocia for whose wanton destruction threefold ven- geance had been taken, as has been stated. In this way outrages are frequently committed on the natives by thoughtless or mischievous white men ; the Indians retaliate according to a law of their code, which requires blood for blood; their act, of what with them is pious vengeance, resounds throughout the land, and is represented as wanton and unprovoked ; the neighborhood is roused to arms ; a war ensues, which ends in the destruction of half the tribe, the ruin of the rest, and their expulsion from their hereditary homes. Such is too often the real history of Indian warfare, which in gen- eral is traced up only to some vindictive act of a savage ; while the outrage of the scoundrel white man that provoked it is sunk in silence. The two chiefs, having smoked their pipe of peace and received a few presents, departed well satisfied. In a little while two others appeared on horseback, and rode up abreast of the boats. They had seen the presents given to their comrades, but were dissatisfied with them, and came after the boats to ask for more. Being somewhat peremptory and insolent in their demands, Mr. Hunt gave them a flat refusal, and threatened, if they or any of their tribe followed him with similar demands, to treat them as enemies. They turned and rode Bangers anD precautions 371 off ill a furious passion. As he was ignorant what force these chiefs might have behind the hills, and as it was very possible they might take advantage of some pass of the river to attack the boats, Mr. Hunt called all stragglers on board and prepared for such emergency. It was agreed that the large boat commanded by Mr. Hunt should ascend along the northeast side of the river, and the three smaller boats along the south side. By this arrangement each party would command a view of the oppo- site heights above the heads and out of sight of their companions, and could give the alarm should they perceive any Indians lurking there. The signal of alarm was to be two shots fired in quick succession. The boats proceeded for the greater part of the day without seeing any signs of an enemy. About four o'clock in the afternoon the large boat, commanded by Mr. Hunt, came to where the river was divided by a long sand-bar, which apparently, however, left a sufficient channel between it and the shore along which they were advancing. He kept up this channel, therefore, for some distance, until the water proved too shallow for the boat. It was neces- sary, therefore, to put about, return down the channel, and pull round the lower end of the sand-bar into the main stream. Just as he m ■?i ^«i 'ti^ i^ii \u III "1 n ^ il J t V. 272 Bdtoria had given orders to this effect to his men, two signal guns were fired from the boats on the opposite side of the river. At the same mo- ment, a file of savage warriors was observed pouring down from the impending bank, and gathering on the shore at the lower end of the bar. They were evidently a war party, being armed with bows and arrows, battle clubs and carbines, and round bucklers of buffalo hide, and their naked bodies were painted with black and white stripes. The natural inference was, that they belonged to the two tribes of Sioux which had been expected by the great war party, and that they had been incited to hostil- ity by the two chiefs who had been enraged by the refusal and the menace of Mr. Hunt. Here, then, was a fearful predicament. Mr. Hunt and his crew seemed caught, as it were, in a trap. The Indians, to the number of about a hundred, had already taken possession of a point near which the boat would have to pass : others kept pouring down the bank, and it was probable that some would remain posted on the top of the height. The hazardous situation of Mr. Hunt was perceived by those in the other boats, and they hastened to his assistance. They were at some distance above the sand-bar, however, and on the opposite side of the river, and saw, with f ndian f denD0 273 intense anxiety, the number of savages contin- ually augmenting, at the lower end of the channel, so that the boat would be exposed to a fearful attack before they could render it any assistance. Their anxiety increased, as they saw Mr. Hunt and his party descending the channel and dauntlessly approaching the point of danger ; but it suddenly changed into sur- prise on beholding the boat pass close by the savage horde unmolested, and steer out safely into the broad river. The next moment the whole band of warriors was in motion. They ran along the bank until they were opposite to the boats, then throwing by their weapons and buffalo robes, plunged into the river, waded and swam off to the boats and surrounded them in crowds, seeking to shake hands with every individual on board ; for the Indians have long since found this to be the white man's token of amity, and they carry it to an extreme. All uneasiness was now at an end. The Indians proved to be a war party of Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, consisting of three hundred warriors and bound on a foray against the Sioux. Their war plans were abandoned for the present, and they determined to return to the Arickara town, where they hoped to obtain from the white men arms and ammuni- VOL. I. — 18 ' .i i -f k ■^m I 'f < '< » 111 V :; i I 1 1 ' t '< . I- .' n 1 274 Bdtocia tion that would enable them to take the field with advantage over their enemies. The boats now sought the first convenient place for encamping. The tents were pitched ; the warriors fixed their camp at about a hun- dred yards distant ; provisions were furnished from the boats sufficient for all parties ; there was hearty though rude feasting in both camps, and in the evening the red warriors entertained their white friends with dances and songs, that lasted until after midnight. = On the following morning (July 3d) the travel- lers re-embarked, and took a temporary leave of their Indian friends, who intended to pro- ceed immediately for the Arickara town, where they expected to arrive in three days, long before the boats could reach there. Mr. Hunt had not proceeded far before the chief came galloping along the shore and made signs for a parley. He said his people could not go home satisfied unless they had something to take with them to prove that they had met white men. Mr. Hunt understood the drift of the speech, and made the chief a present of a cask of powder, a bag of balls, and three dozen of knives, with which he was highly pleased. While the chief was receiving these presents an Indian came running along the shore, and announced that a boat, filled with white men. Bppcoacb ot Xiea 275 was coming up the river. This was by no means agreeable tidings to Mr. Hunt, who correctly concluded it to be the boat of Mr. Manuel lyisa ; and he was vexed to find that alert and adven- turous trader upon his heels, whom he hoped to have out-manoeuvred, and left far behind. Lisa, however, was too much experienced in the wiles of Indian trade to be lulled by the promise of waiting for him at the Poncas vil- lage ; on the contrary, he had allowed himself no repose, and had strained every nerve to overtake the rival party, and availing himself of the moonlight, had even sailed during a considerable part of the night. In this he was partly prompted by his apprehensions of the Sioux, having met a boat which had probably passed Mr. Hunt's party in the night, and which had been fired into by these savages. On hearing that Lisa was so near at hand, Mr. Hunt perceived that it was useless to at- tempt any longer to evade him ; after proceed- ing a few miles farther, therefore, he came to a halt and waited for him to come up. In a little while the barge of Lisa made its appear- ance. It came sweeping gently up the river, manned by its twenty stout oarsmen, and armed by a swivel mounted at the bow. The whole number on board amounted to twenty-six men : among whom was Mr. Henry Breckenridge, 1 * t 'I i: = ::.! I ! 276 Bdtotfa then a young, enterprising man ; who was a mere passenger, tempted by notions of curiosity to accompany Mr. I^isa. He has since made himself known by various writings, among which may be noted a narrative of this very voyage. The approach of I^isa, while it v^as regarded with uneasiness by Mr. Hunt, roused the ire of M'L,ellan ; who, calling to mind old griev- ances, began to look round for his rifle, as if he really intended to carry his threat into exe- cution and shoot him on the spot ; and it was with some difficulty that Mr. Hunt was enabled to restrain his ire, and prevent a scene of out- rage and confusion. The meeting between the two leaders, thus mutually distrustful, could not be very cordial : and as to Messrs. Crooks and MXellan, though they refrained from any outbreak, yet they re- garded in grim defiance their old rival and underplotter. In truth, a general distrust pi*.- vailed throughout the party concerning Lisa and his intentions. They considered him art- ful and slippery, and secretly anxious for the failure of their expedition. There being now nothing more to be apprehended from the Sioux, they suspected that L,isa would take advantage of his twenty-oared barge to leave them and get first among the Ariekaras. As was a riosity 2 made among s very garded the ire I griev- e, as if ito exe- l it was snabled of out- fs, thus :ordial : though hey re- ral and ust pi^- ig lyisa lim art- for the ng now om the Id take to leave as. As Pierre S)orion and Xida 277 he had traded with those people and possessed great influence over them, it was feared he might make use of it to impede the business of Mr. Hunt and his party. It was resolved, therefore, to keep a sharp look-out upon his movements ; and MXellan swore that if he saw the least sign of treachery on his part, he would instantly put his old threat into execution. Notwithstanding these secret jealousies and heart-burnings, the two parties maintained an outward appearance of civility, and for two days continued forward in company with some de- gree of harmony. On the third day, however, an explosion took place, and it was produced by no less a personage than Pierre Dorion, the half-breed interpreter. It will be recollected that this worthy had been obliged to steal a march from St. lyouis, to avoid being arrested for an old whiskey debt which he owed to the Missouri Fur Company, and by which Mr. Lisa had hoped to prevent his enlisting in Mr. Hunt's expedition. Dorion, since the arrival of Lisa, had kept aloof and regarded him with a sullen and dogged aspect. On the 5th of July the two parties were brought to a halt by a heavy rain, and remained encamped about a hundred yards apart. In the course of the day Lisa undertook to tamper with the faith of Pierre Dorion, and, inviting him on board M 1: ■ * < 1 if I ' 1, t , f ri In ^ U fi Tf I it', { Jj . 1^> ,i: <'■ Hi iii' ' i 278 Betorta ■1 ! ' I !, I of his boat, regaled him with his favorite whiskey. When he thought him sufficiently mellowed, he proposed to him to quit the ser- vice of his new employers and return to his old allegiance. Finding him not to be moved by soft words, he called to mind his old debt to the company, and threatened to carry him off by force, in payment of it. The mention of this debt always stirred up the gall of Pierre Dorion, bringing with it the remembrance of the whiskey extortion. A violent quarrel arose between him and Lisa, and he left the boat in high dudgeon. His first step was to repair to the tent of Mr. Hunt and reveal the attempt that had been made to shake his faith. While he was yet talking Lisa entered the tent, under the pretext of coming to borrow a towing line. High words instantly ensued be- tween him and Dorion, which ended by the half-breed's dealing him a blow. A quarrel in the * * Indian country, ' ' however, is not to be settled with fisticuffs. Lisa immediately rushed to his boat for a weapon. Dorion snatched up a pair of pistols belonging to Mr. Hunt, and placed himself in battle array. The noisehad roused the camp, and everyone pressed to know the cause. Lisa now reappeared upon the field with a knife stuck in his girdle. Mr. Breckenridge, who had tried in vain to mollify f>unt CbaUenged Xida 879 his ire, accompanied him to the scene of action. Pierre Dorion's pistols gave him the advantage, and he maintained a most warlike attitude. In the meantime, Crooks and M'Lellan had learnt the cause of the affray, and were each eager to take the quarrel into their own hands. A scene of uproar and hubbub ensued that defies description. MXellan would have brought his rifle into play and settled all old and new grudges by a pull of the trigger, had he not been restrained by Mr. Hunt. That gentleman acted as moderator, endeavoring to prevent a general m^l^e ; in the midst of the brawl, however, an expression was made use of by Lisa derogatory to his own honor. In an instant the tranquil spirit of Mr. Hunt was in a flame. He now became as eager for the fight as any one on the ground, and challenged Lisa to settle the dispute on the spot with pis- tols. Lisa repaired to his boat to arm himself for the deadly feud. He was followed by Messrs. Bradbury and Breckenridge, who, novices in Indian life and the ** chivalry " of the frontier, had no relish for scenes of blood and brawl. By their earnest mediation the quarrel was brought to a close without blood- vshed ; but the two leaders of the rival camps separated in anger, and all personal intercourse ceased between them. (; "t ' » « H"i ill ! 1 i ■>' Chapter ff. Features of the Wilderness— John Day— Interview with Three Arickaras— Negotiations between the Rival Parties— Arickara Village— Ceremonials on Landing— A Council Lodge— Encampment of the Trading Parties. { THE rival parties now coasted along the opposite sides of the river, within sight of each other ; the barges of Mr. Hunt always keeping some dis- tance in the advance, lest lyisa should push on and get first to the Arickara village. The scenery and objects, as they proceeded, gave evidence that they were advancing deeper and deeper into the domains of savage nature. Boundless wastes kept extending to the eye, more and more animated by herds of buffalo. Sometimes these unwieldy animals were seen moving in long procession across the silent landscape ; at other times they were scattered about, singly or in groups, on the broad, en- 280 V JSuflalod, S>eer, and Bntelopes 281 amelled prairies and green acclivities, some cropping the rich pasturage, others reclining amidst the flowery herbage ; the whole scene realizing in a manner the old Scriptural de- scriptions of the vast pastoral countries of the Orient, with "cattle upon a thousand hills." At one place the shores seemed absolutely lined with buffaloes ; many were making their way across the stream, snorting, and blowing, and floundering. Numbers, in spite of every effort, were borne by the rapid current within shot of the boats, and several were killed. At another place a number were descried on the beach of a small island, under the shade of the trees, or standing in the water, like cattle, to avoid the flies and the heat of the day. Several of the best marksmen stationed themselves in the bow of a barge which ad- vanced slowly and silently, stemming the cur- rent with the aid of a broad sail and a fair breeze. The buffaloes stood gazing quietly at the barge as it approached, perfectly uncon- scious of their danger. The fattest of the herd was selected by the hunters, who all fired together and brought down their victim. Beside the buffaloes they saw abundance of deer, and frequent gangs of stately elks, to- gether with light troops of sprightly antelopes, 11 r.i I '. I t; ■\t P: i| 989 Bfltorfa the fleetest and most beautiful inhabitants of the prairies. There are two kinds of antelopes in these regions, one nearly the size of the common deer, the other not much larger than a goat. Their color is a light gray, or rather dun, slightly spotted with white ; and they have small horns like those of the deer, which they never shed. Nothing can surpass the delicate and elegant finish of their limbs, in which lightness, elasticity, and strength are wonder- fully combined. All the attitudes and move- ments of this beautiful animal are graceful and picturesque ; and it is altogether as fit a subject for the fanciful uses of the poet as the oft-sung gazelle of the East. Their habits are shy and capricious ; they keep on the open plains, are quick to take the alarm, and bound away with a fleetness that defies pursuit. When thus skimming across a prairie in the autumn, their light gray or dun color blends with the hue of the withered her- bage, the swiftness of their motion baffles the eye, and they almost seem unsubstantial forms, driven like gossamer before the wind. While they thus keep to the open plain and trust to their speed, they are safe ; but they have a prurient curiosity that sometimes betrays them to their ruin. When they have scud for ,i-^ CuriO0itc of tbe Bntelope S83 some distance and left their pursuer behind, they will suddenly stop and turn to gaze at the object of their alarm. If the pursuit is not followed up they will, after a time, yield to their inquisitive hankering, and return to the place from whence they have been frightened. John Day, the veteran hunter already men- tioned, displayed his experience and skill in entrapping one of these beautiful animals. Taking advantage of its well-known curiosity, he laid down flat among the grass, and putting his handkerchief on the end of his ramrod, waved it gently in the air. This had the effect of the fabled fascination of the rattlesnake. The antelope approached timidly, pausing and reconnoitring with increased curiosity ; mov- ing round the point of attraction in a circle, but still drawing nearer and nearer, until being within range of the deadly rifle, he fell a victim to his curiosity. On the loth of June, as the party were mak- ing brisk progress with a fine breeze, they met a canoe with three Indians descending the river. They came to a parley, and brought news from the Arickara village. The war party, which had caused such alarm at the sand-bar, had reached the village some days previously, announced the approach of a party of traders, and displayed with great ostentation '■i! lil li- i 'I i !i^ •j n r? h 1 1 ii r I. P! ii Yl «' 284 Bdtoria the presents they had received from them. On further conversation with these three Indi- ans, Mr. Hunt learnt the real danger which he had run, when hemmed up within the sand- bar. The Mandans, who were of the war party, when they saw the boat so completely entrapped and apparently within their power, had been eager for attacking it, and securing so rich a prize. The Minatarees, also, were nothing loth, feeling in some measure com- mitted in hostility to the whites, in conse- quence of their tribe having killed two white men above the fort of the Missouri Fur Com- pany. Fortunately, the Arickaras, who formed the majority of the war party, proved true in their friendship to the whites, and prevented any hostile act, otherwise a bloody affray, and perhaps a horrible masbacre might have ensued. On the nth of June, Mr. Hunt and his com- panions encamped near an island about six miles below the Arickara village. Mr. lyisa encamped, as usual, at no great distance ; but the same sullen and jealous reserve, and non- intercourse continued between them. Shortly after pitching the tents, Mr. Breckenridge made his appearance as an ambassador from the rival camp. He came, on behalf of his companions, to arrange the manner of making Bn BcfcFtara Bmbaseis 285 their entrance into the village and of receiving the chiefs ; for everything of the kind is a matter of grave ceremonial among the Indians. The partners now expressed frankly their deep distrust of the intentions of Mr. Lisa, and their apprehensions, that, out of the jealousy of trade, and resentment of recent disputes, he might seek to instigate the Arickaras against them. Mr. Breckenridge assured them that their suspicions were entirely groundless, and pledged himself that nothing of the kind should take place. He found it difficult, how- ever, to remove their distrust ; the conference, therefore, ended without producing any cordial understanding ; and M'lycllan recurred to his old threat of shooting I^isa the instant he dis- covered anything like treachery in his pro- ceedings. That night the rain fell in torrents, accom- panied by thunder and lightning. The camp was deluged, and the bedding and baggage drenched. All hands embarked at an early hour, and set forward for the village. About nine o'clock, when half way, they met a canoe, on board of which were two Arickara dignitaries. One, a fine-looking man, much above the com- mon size, was hereditary chief of the village ; he was called the Left-handed, on account of a personal peculiarity. The other, a ferocious- 1 'I 1 ^ ' I 386 B0toria looking savage, was the war chief, or general- ivssimo ; he was known by the name of the Big Man, an appellation he well deserved from his size, for he was of a gigantic frame. Both were of fairer complexion than is usual with savages. They were accompanied by an interpreter ; a French Creole, one of those haphazard wights of Gallic origin who abound upon our frontier, living among the Indians like one of their own race. He had been twenty years among the Arickaras, had a squaw and troop of piebald children, and officiated as interpreter to the chiefs. Through this worthy organ the two dignitaries signified to Mr. Hunt their sover- eign intention to oppose the further progress of the expedition up the river unless a boat were left to trade with them. Mr. Hunt, in reply, explained the object of his voyage, and his intention of debarking at their village and ^"^oceeding thence by land ; and that he would willingly trade with them for a supply of horses for his journey. With this explanation they were perfectly satisfied, and putting about, steered for their village to make preparations for the reception of the strangers. i The village of the Rikaras, Arickaras, or Ricarees, for the name is thus variously written, is between the 46th and 47th parallels of north latitude, and fourteen hundred and thirty miles Zbc IDflladc ot tbe 'Riftaraa 287 ^■ r sover- above-the mouth of the Missouri. The party reached it about ten o'clock in the morning, but landed on the opposite side of the river, where they spread out their baggage and ef- fects to dry. From hence they commanded an excellent view of the village. It was di- vided into two portions, about eighty yards apart, being inhabited by two distinct bands. The whole extended about three quarters of a mile along the river bank, and was composed of conical lodges, that looked like so many small hillocks, being wooden frames inter- twined with osier, and covered with earth. The plain beyond the village swept up into hills of considerable height, but the whole country was nearly destitute of trees. While they were regarding the village, they beheld a singular fleet coming down the river. It consisted of a number of canoes, each made of a single buffalo hide stretched on sticks, so as to form a kind of circular trough. Each one was navigated by a single squaw, who knelt in the bottom and paddled ; towing after her frail bark a bundle of floating wood intended for firing. This kind of canoe is in frequent use among the Indians ; the buffalo hide being readily made up into a bundle and transported on horseback ; it is very serviceable in convey- ing baggage across the rivers. I '' I 'J i '.t'l ' ' I' i ■' I It lit i ,1 VIM ! I il! .( 1^ fj'' 288 BBtoria The great number of horses grazing around the village, and scattered over the neighbor- ing hills and valleys, bespoke the equestrian habit of the Arickaras, who are admirable horsemen. Indeed, in the number of his horses consists the wealth of an Indian of the prairies, who resembles an Arab in his passion for this noble animal, and in his adroitness in the management of it. After a time, the voice of the sovereign chief, ** the Left-handed," was heard across the river, announcing that the council lodge was prepar- ing, and inviting the white men to come over. The river was half a mile in width, yet every word uttered by the chieftain was heard ; this may be partly attributed to the distinct man- ner in which every syllable of the compound words in the Indian languages is articulated and accented ; but, in truth, a savage warrior might often rival Achilles himself for force of lungs.* Now came the delicate point of management — how the two rival parties were to conduct their visit to the village with proper circum- spection and due decorum. Neither of the leaders had spoken to each other since their quarrel. All communication had been by am- bassadors. Seeing the jealousy entertained * Bradbury, p. no. \ 'Reception h^ tbe Cbiet 289 of Lisa, Mr. Breckenridge, in his negotiation, had arranged that a deputation from each party should cross the river at the same time, so that neither would have the first access to the ear of the Arickaras. The distrust of Lisa, however, had increased in proportion as they approached the sphere of action ; and M'Lellan, in particular, kept a vigilant eye upon his motions, swearing to shoot him if he attempted to cross the river first. About two o'clock the large boat of Mr. Hunt was manned, and he stepped on board, accompanied by Messrs. M'Kenzie and M'Lel- lan ; Lisa at the same time embarked in his barge ; the two deputations amounted in all to fourteen persons, and never was any movement of rival potentates conducted with more wary exactness. They landed amidst a rabble crowd, and were received on the bank by the left-handed-chief, who conducted them into the village with grave courtesy ; driving to the right and left the swarms of old squaws, imp-like boys, and vaga- bond dogs, with which the place abounded. They wound their way between the cabins, which looked like dirt-heaps huddled together without any plan, and surrounded by old pali- sades ; all filthy in the extreme, and redolent of villainous smells. VOL. I.— 19 ii II ii. ■f •! f : M iV I 'It' 1 Ht Irl |! 290 Bdtocia At length they arrived at the council lodge. It was somewhat spacious, and formed of four forked trunks of trees placed upright, support- ing cross-beams and a frame of poles interwoven with osiers, and the whole covered with earth. A hole sunken in the centre formed the fire- place, and immediately above was a circular hole in the apex of the lodge, to let out the smoke and let in the daylight. Around the lodge were recesses for sleeping, like the berths on board ships, screened from view by curtains of dressed skins. At the upper end of the lodge was a kind of hunting and warlike trophy, consisting of two buffalo heads gair- ishly painted, surmounted by shields, bows, quivers of arrows, and other weapons. On entering the lodge the chief pointed to mats or cushions which had been placed around for the strangers and on which they seated them- selves, while he placed himself on a k'nd of stool. An old man then came forward with the pipe of peace or good-fellowship, lighted and handed it to the chief, and then falling back, squatted himself near the door. The pipe was passed from mouth to mouth, each one taking a whiff, which is equivalent to the inviolable pledge of faith, of taking salt together among the ancient Britons. The chief then made a sign to the old pipe-bearer, who seemed to fill, . 1. <3rand Conference 2QI likewise, the station of herald, seneschal, and public crier, for he ascended to the top of the lodge to make proclamation. Here he took his post beside the aperture for the emission of smoke and the admission of light ; the chief dictated from within what he was to proclaim and he bawled it forth with a force of lungs that resounded over all the village. In this way he summoned the warriors and great men to council ; every now and then reporting pro- gress to his chief through the hole in the roof. In a little while the braves and sages began to enter one by one, as their names were called or announced, emerging from under the buffalo robe suspended over the entrance instead of a door, stalking across the lodge to the skins placed on the floor, and crouching down on them in silence. By this way twenty entered and took their seats, forming an assemblage worthy of the pencil : for the Arickaras are a noble race of men, large and well formed, and maintain a savage grandeur and gravity of demeanor in their solemn ceremonials. All being seated, the old seneschal prepared the pipe of ceremony or council, and having lit it, handed it to the chief. He inhaled the sacred smoke, gave a puff upward to the hea- ven, then downward to the earth, then towards the east ; after this it was as usual passed from \hi-\ ■ -J ■ ^4 14 II ' I • i -1 i! ll : 292 Bdtocia mouth to mouth, each holding it respectfully until his neighbor had taken several whiffs : and now the grand council was considered as opened in due form. The chief made an harangue welcoming the white men to his village, and expressing his happiness in taking them by the hand as friends ; but at the same time complaining of the poverty of himself and his people ; the usual prelude among Indians to begging or hard bargaining. Lisa rose to reply, and the eyes of Hunt and his companions were eagerly turned upon him, those of MXellan glaring like a basilisk's. He began by the usual expressions of friend- ship, and then proceeded to explain the object of his own party. * * Those persons, however, ' ' said he, pointing to Mr. Hunt and his compan- ions, " are of a different party, and are quite distinct in their views; but," added he, "though we are separate parties, we make but one common cause when the safety of either is concerned. Any injury or insult offered to them I shall consider as done to myself, and will resent it accordingly. I trust, therefore, that you will treat them with the same friend- ship that you have always manifested for me, doing everything in your power to serve them and to help them on their way." The speech of Lisa, delivered with an air of frankness i 4r. Vledotfation toe IboxBce 2tj3 and sincerity, agreeably surprised and disap- pointed the rival party. Mr. Hunt then spoke, declaring the object , of his journey to the great Salt Lake beyond the mountains, and that he should want horses for the purpose, for which he was ready to trade, having brought with him plenty of goods. Both he and lyisa concluded their speeches by making presents of tobacco. The left-handed chieftain in reply promised his friendship and aid to the new-comers, and welcomed them to his village. He added that they had not the number of horses to spare that Mr. Hunt required, and expressed a doubt whether they should be able to part w^itli any. Upon this, another chieftain, called Gray Eyes, made a speech, and declared that they could readily supply Mr. Hunt with all the horses he might want, since if they had not enough in the village, they could easily steal more. This honest expedient immediately removed the main difficulty ; but the chief deferred all trading for a day or two ; until he should have time to consult with his subordinate chiefs as to market rates ; for the principal chief of a village, in conjunction with his council, usually fixes the prices at which articles shall be bought and sold, and to them the village must conform. -1 'it IJ! (j ; ■ A TRADE now commenced with the Arickaras under the regulation and supervision of their two chieftains. Lisa sent a part of his goods to the lodge of the left-handed dignitary, and Mr, Hunt established his mart in the lodge of the Big Man. The village soon presented the ap- pearance of a busy fair ; and as horses were in demand, the purlieus and the adjacent plain were like the vicinity of a Tartar encampment ; horses were put through all their paces, and horsemen were careering about with that dex- terity and grace for which the Arickaras are noted. As soon as a horse was purchased, his tail was cropped, a sure mode of distinguishing 295 ■ omc0tfc lite of an Indian 2(J7 ball, and other munitions of war. The price of a horse, as regulated by the chiefs, was commonly ten dollars' worth of goods at first cost. To supply the demand thus suddenly created, parties of young men and braves had sallied forth on expeditions to steal horses ; a species of service among the Indians which takes precedence of hunting, and is considered a department of honorable warfare. While the leaders of the expedition were ac- tively engaged in preparing for the approaching journey, those who had accompanied it for curiosity or amusement, found ample matter for observation in the village and its inhabi- tants. Wherever they went they were kindly entertained. If they entered a lodge, the buf- falo robe was spread before the fire for them to sit down ; the pipe was brought, and while the master of the lodge conversed with his guests, the squaw put the earthen vessel over the fire, well filled with dried buffalo-meat and pounded corn ; for the Indian in his native state, before he has mingled much with white men, and ac- quired their sordid habits, has the hospitality of the Arab ; never does a stranger enter his door without having food placed before him ; and never is the food thus furnished made a matter of traffic. The life of an Indian when at home in his H ' 298 Bstotia t i] ^ village is a life of indolence and amusement. To the woman is consigned the labors of the household and the field ; she arranges the lodge ; brings wood for the fire ; cooks ; jerks venison and bufialo meat ; dresses the skins of the animals killed in the chase ; cultivates the little patch of maize, pumpkins, and pulse, which furnishes a great part of their provisions. Their time for repose and recreation is at sun- set, when the labors of the day being ended, they gather together to amuse themselves with petty games, or to hold gossiping convocations on the tops of their lodges. As to the Indian, he is a game animal, not to be degraded by useful or menial toil. It is enough that he exposes himself to the hard- ships of the chase and the perils of war ; that he brings home food for his family, and watches and fights for its protection. Everything else is beneath his attention. When at home, he attends only to his weapons and his horses, preparing the means of future exploit. Or he engages with his comrades in games of dexter- ity, agility and strength ; or in gambling games in which everything is put at hazard with a recklessness seldom witnessed in civilized life. A great part of the idle leisure of the Indians, when at home, is passed in groups, squatted together on the bank of a river, on the top of a , \'k Blarmitid 'Rumore 299 mouijid on the prairie, or on the roof of one of their earth-covered lodges, talking over the news of the day, the affairs of the tribe, the events and exploits of their last hunting or fighting expedition ; or listening to the stories of old times told by some veteran chronicler ; resembling a group of our village quidnuncs and politicians, listening to the prosings of some superannuated oracle, or discussing the contents of an ancient newspaper. As to the Indian women, they are far from complaining of their lot. On the contrary, they would despise their husbands could they stoop to any menial office, and would think it con- veyed an imputation upon their own conduct. It is the worst insult one virago can cast upon another in a moment of altercation. '* Infa- mous woman ! " will she cry, " I have seen your husband carrying wood into his lodge to make the fire. Where was his squaw, that he should be obliged to make a woman of him- self!" ^ ' Mr. Hunt and his tdlow-tra sellers had not been many days at the Arickara village, when rumors began to circulate that the Sioux had followed them up, and that a war party, four or five hundred in number, were lurking some- where in the neighborhood. These rumors produced much embarrassment in the camp. i ; 1 1 \ i i; i ! '•' I ;', .> '*l I:. 300 Bdtoria The white hunters were deterred from ventur- ing forth in quest of game, neither did the leaders think it proper to expose them to such a risk. The Arickaras, too, who had suffered greatly in their wars with this cruel and fero- cious tribe, were roused to increased vigilance, and stationed mounted scouts upon the neigh- boring hills. This, however, is a general pre- caution among the tribes of the prairies. Those immense plains present a horizon like the ocean, so that any object of importance can be descried afar, and information communicated to a great distance. The scouts are stationed on the hills, therefore, to look out both for game and for enemies, and are, in a manner, living telegraphs conveying their intelligence by concerted signs. If they wish to give notice of a herd of buffalo in the plain beyond, they gallop backwards and forwards abreast, on the summit of the hill. If they perceive an enemy at hand, they gallop to and fro, crossing each other ; at sight of wh ich the whole village flies to arms. ' Such an alarm was given in the afternoon of the 15th. Four scouts were seen crossing and recrossing each other at full gallop, on the summit of a hill about two miles distant down the river. The cry was up that the Sioux were coming. In an instant the village was ^ ■ f . Bn Bcicftara ££Citement 301 in an uproar. Men, women, and children were all brawling ard shouting ; dogs barking, yelp- ing, and howling. Some of the warriors ran for the horses to gather and drive them in from the prairie, some for their weapons. As fast as they could arm and equip they sallied forth ; some on horseback, some on foot. Some hastily arrayed in their war dress, with coro- nets of fluttering feathers, and their bodies smeared with paint; others naked and only furnished with the weapons they had snatched up. The women and children gathered on the tops c ^ the lodges and heightened the confusion of the scene by their vociferation. Old men who could no longer bear arms took similar stations, and harangued the warriors as they passed, exhorting them to valorous deeds. Some of the veterans took arms themselves, and sallied forth with tottering steps. In this way, the savage chivalry of the village to the number of five hundred, poured forth, helter-skelter, riding and running, with hideous yells and war-whoops, like so many bedlamites or demo- niacs let loose. After a while the tide of war rolled back, but with far less uproar. Either it had been a false alarm, or the enemy had retreated on finding themselves di.^.riovered, and quiet was restored to the village. The white hunters con- •f. 'H % . t ,u* :. n '; ; i: I 'V I '■.' '. / HH ''fcl 302 Bdtoria tinuing to be fearful of ranging this dangerous neighborhood, fresh provisions began to be scarce in the camp. As a substitute, therefore, for venison and buffalo meat, the travellers had to purchase a number of dogs to be shot and cooked for the supply of the camp. Fortu- nately, however chary the Indians might be of their horses, they were liberal of their dogs. In fact, these animals swarm about an Indian village as they do about a Turkish town. Not a family but has two or three dozen belonging to it, of all sizes and colors ; some of a superior breed are used for hunting ; others, to draw the sledge, while others, of a mongrel breed, and idle vagabond nature, are fattened for food. They are supposed to be descended from the wolf, and retain something of his savage but cowardly temper, howling rather than barking ; showing their teeth and snarling on the slightest provocation, but sneaking away 011 the least attack. The excitement of the village continued from day to day. On the day following the alarm just mentioned, several parties arrived from different directions, and were met and con- ducted by some of the brave" to the council lodge, where they reported the events and success of their expeditions, whether of war or hunting ; which news was afterwards promul- B Cbesennc JEmbasdi? J03 gated throughout the village, by certain old men who acted as heralds or town criers. Among the parties which arrived was one that had been among the Snake nation stealing horses, and returned crowned with success. As they passed in triumph through the village they were cheered by the men, women, and children, collected as usual on the tops of the lodges, and were exhorted by the Nestors of the village to be generous in their dealings with the white men. The evening was spent in feasting and re- joicing among the relations of the successful warriors ; but the sounds of grief and wailing were heard from the hills adjacent to the village — the lamentations of women who had lost some relative m the foray. An Indian village is subject to continual agitations and excitements. The next day arrived a deputation of braves from the Chey- enne or Shienne nation ; a broken tribe, cut up, like the Arickaras, by wars with the Sioux, and driven to take refuge among the Black Hills, near the sources of the Cheyenne River, from which they derive their name. One of these deputies was magnificently arrayed in a buffalo robe, on which various figures were fancifully embroidered with split quills dyed red and yellow ; and the whole was fringed •J I. ! ■».': [| ■^ ■■•n ■»]■! '' , I y I. it I I J , I ! |?| i: I 1' / t bii if' I 304 Bdtoria with the slender hoofs of young fawns, that rattled as he walked. The arrival of this deputation was the signal for another of those ceremonials which occupy so much of Indian life ; for no being is more courtly and punctilious, and more observing of etiquette and formality than an American savage. The object of the deputation was to give notice of an intended visit of the Shienne (or Cheyenne) tribe to the Arickara village in the course of fifteen days. To this visit Mr. Hunt looked forward to procure additional horses for his journey ; all his bargaining being inef- fectual in obtaining a sufficient supply from the Arickaras. Indeed, nothing could prevail upon the latter to part with their prime horses, which had been trained to buflfalo hunting. As Mr. Hunt would have to abandon his boats at this place, Mr. L,isa now offered to purchase them, and such of his merchandise as was superfluous, and to pay him in horses to be obtained at a fort belonging to the Mis- souri Fur Company, situated at the Mandan villages, about a hundred and fifty miles far- ther up the river. A bargain was promptly made, and Mr. I^isa and Mr. Crooks, with sev- eral companions, set out for the fort to procure the horses. They returned, after upwards of fxceb Blacmd 305 a fortnight's absence, bringing with them the stipulated number of horses. Still the cavalry was not sufficiently numerous to convey the party and baggage and merchandise, and a few days more were required to complete the ar- rangements for the journey. On the 9th of July, just before daybreak, a great noise and vociferation was heard in the village. This being the usual Indian hour of attack and surprise, and the Sioux being known to be in the neighborhood, the camp was in- stantly on the alert. As the day broke Indians were descried in considerable number on the bluffs, three or four miles down the river. The noise and agitation in the village continued. The tops of the lodges were crowded with the inhabitants, all earnestly looking toward the hills, and keeping up a vehement chattering. Presently an Indian warrior galloped past the camp towards the village, and in a little while the legions began to pour forth. The truth of the matter was now ascertained. The Indians upon the distant hills were three hundred Arickara braves, returning home from a foray. They had met the war party of Sioux who had been so long hovering about the neigh- borhood, had fought them the day before, killed several, and defeated the rest with the loss of but two or three of their own men and '.m VOL. I.— 20 Il ', ^1 "IV i.;i ,1 >l\ I! ' i; : 306 B0tocia about a dozen wounded ; and they were now halting at a distance until their comrades in the village should come forth to meet them, and swell the parade of their triumphal entry. The warrior who had galloped past the camp was the leader of the party hastening home to give tidings of his victory. Preparations were now made for thi 5 great martial ceremony. All the finery and equip- ments of the warriors were sent forth to them, that they might appear to the greatest advan- tage. Those, too, who had remained at home, tasked their wardrobes and toilets to do honor to the procession. The Arickaras generally go naked, but, like all savages, they have their gala dress, of which they are not a little vain. This usually consists of a gray surcoat and leggings of the dressed skin of the antelope, resembling chamois leather, and embroidered with porcupine quills brilliantly dyed. A buffalo robe is thrown over the right shoulder, and across the left is slung a quiver of arrows. They wear gay coronets of plumes, particularly those of the swan ; but the feathers of the black eagle are considered the most worthy, being a sacred bird among the Indian warriors. He who has killed an enemy in his own land, is entitled to drag at his heels a fox-skin attached to each mocca- / Bn f nNan tToilet 307 sin ; and he who has slain a grizzly bear, wears a necklace of his claws, the most glorious trophy that a hunter can exhibit. An Indian toilet is an operation. ?f" some toil and trouble ; the warrior often has to paint himself from head to foot, and is extremely ca- pricious and difficult to please, as to the hid- eous distribution of streaks and colors. A great part of the morning, therefore, passed away before there were any signs of the distant pa- geant. In the meantime a profound stillness reigned over the village. Most of the inhabi- tants had gone forth ; others remained in mute expectation. All sports and occupations were suspended, excepting that in the lodges the painstaking squaws were silently busied in pre- paring the repasts for the warriors. It was near noon that a mingled sound of voices and rude music, faintly heard from a distance, gave notice that the procession was on the march. The old men and such of the squaws as could leave their employments has- tened forth to meet it. In a little while it emerged from behind a hill, and had a wild and picturesque appearar ce as it came moving over the summit in measured step, and to the cadence of songs and savage instruments ; the warlike standards and trophies flaunting aloft, and the feathers, and paint, and silver orna- i 'i Hit l! 5. ^ m i ■1 •i i' \ 308 B0torfa I It i iii 11 ; , ,1 I'M 1; III! I'l ft'' i .1! ments of the warriors glaring and glittering in the sunshine. The pageant had really something chival- rous in its arrangement. The Arickaras are divided into several bands, each bearing the name of some animal or bird, as the buffalo, the bear, the dog, the pheasant. The present party consisted of four of these bands, one of which was the dog, the most esteemed on war, being composed of young men under thirty, and noted for prowess. It is engaged in the most desperate occasions. The bands marched in separate bodies under their several leaders. The warriors on foot came first, in platoons of ten or twelve abreast ; then the horsemen. Each band bore as an ensign a spear or bow decorated with beads, porcupine quills, and painted feathers. Each bore its trophies of scalps, elevated on poles, their long black locks streaming in the wind. Each was accompa- nied by its rude music and minstrelsy. In this way the procession extended nearly a quarter of a mile. The warriors were vari- ously armed, some few with guns, others with bows and arrows and war clubs; all had shields of buffalo hide, a kind of defence gen- erally used by the Indians of the open prairies, who have not the covert of trees and forests to protect them. They were painted in the (Criumpbant proccdeioti 309 most savage style. Some had the stamp of a red hand across their mouths, a sign that they had drunk the life-blood of a foe ! As they drew near to the village the old men and the women began to meet them, and now a scene ensued that proved the fallacy of the old fable of Indian apathy and stoicism. Parents and children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters met with the most raptur- ous expressions of joy ; while wailings and lamentations were heard from the relatives of the killed and wounded. The procession, how- ever, continued on with slow and measured step, in cadence to the solemn chant, and the warriors maintained their fixed and stern de- meanor. Between two of the principal chiefs rode a young warrior who had distinguished himself in the battle. He was severely wounded, so as with difficulty to keep on his horse ; but he preserved a serene and steadfast countenance, as if perfectly unharmed. His mother had heard of his condition. She broke through the throng, and rushing up, threw her arms around him and wept aloud. He kept up the spirit and demeanor of a warrior to the last, but expired shortly after he had reached his home. The village was now a scene of the utmost V:: 1 ,1 M :1' : •\ ■ i 'I I 11 I f ff a ■ i/ ! ; 310 B0toria festivity and triumph. The banners, and tro- phies, and scalps, and painted shields were elevated on poles near the lodges. There were war-feasts, and scalp-dances, with warlike songs and savage music ; all the inhabitants were arrayed in their festal dresses ; while the old heralds went round from lodge to lodge, promulgating with loud voices the events of the battle and the exploits of the various warriors. Such was the boisterous revelry of the vil- lage ; but sounds of another kind were heard on the surrounding hills ; piteous wailings of the women, who had retired thither to mourn in darkness and solitude for those who had fallen in battle. There the poor mother of the youthful warrior, who had returned home in triumph but to die, gave full vent to the an- guish of a mother's heart. How much does this custom among the Indian women of re- pairing to the hilltops in the night, and pouring forth their wailings for the dead, call to mind the beautiful and aiFecting passage of Scripture: * * In Rama was there a voice heard, lamenta- tion, and weeping, and great mourning, Ra- chel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not." \ I 'I Chapter infill. Wilderness of the Far West — Great American Desert — Black Hills — Rocky Mountains— Wandering and Predatory Hordes — Speculations on What may be the Future Population — Rose, the Interpreter — His Sinister Character — Departure from the Arickara Village. WHILE Mr. Hunt was diligently pre- paring for his arduous journey, some of his men began to lose heart at the perilous prospect be- fore them ; but before we accuse them of want of spirit, it is proper to consider the nature of the wilderness into which they were about to adventure. It was a region almost as vast and trackless as the ocean, and, at the time of which we treat, but little known, excepting through the vague accounts of Indian hunters. A part of their route would lay across an im- mense tract, stretching north and south for hundreds of miles along the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and drained by the tributary 3" fi< i if ii' li I:' ( * I I 312 Bdtoria streams of the Missouri and the Mississippi. This region, which resembles one of the im- measurable steppes of Asia, has not inaptly been termed "the great American desert." It spreads forth into undulating and treeless plains, and desolate sandy wastes wearisome to the eye from their extent and monotony, and which are supposed by geologists to have formed the ancient floor of the ocean, count- less ages since, when its primeval waves beat against the granite bases of the Rocky Moun- tains. \ It is a land where no man permanently abides ; for, in certain seasons of the year there is no food either for the hunter or his steed. The herbage is parched and withered ; the brooks and streams are dried up ; the buf- falo, the elk, and the deer have wandered to distant parts, keeping within the verge of ex- piring verdure, and leaving behind them a vast uninhabited solitude, seamed by ravines, the beds of former torrents, but now serving only to tantalize and increase the thirst of the traveller. Occasionally the monotony of this vast wil- derness is interrupted by mountainous belts of sand and limestone, broken into confused masses ; with precipitous cliffs and yawning ravines, looking like the ruins of a world ; or Wildecnedd ot tbe jTar 'Meet 313 is traversed by lofty and barren ridges of rcx:k, almost impassable, like those denominated the Black Hills. Beyond these rise the stern barriers of the Rocky Mountains, the limits, as it were, of the Atlantic world. The rugged defiles and deep valleys of this vast chain form sheltering places for restless and ferocious bands of savages, many of them the remnants of tribes, once inhabitants of the prairies, but broken up» by war and violence, and who carry into their mountain haunts the fierce passions and reckless habits of desperadoes. Such is the nature of this immense wilder- ness of the far West ; which apparently defies cultivation, and the habitation of civilized life. Some portions of it along the rivers may par- tially be subdued by agriculture, others may form vast pastoral tracts, like those of the Kast ; but it is to be feared that a great part of it will form a lawless interval between the abodes of civilized man, like the wastes of the ocean or the deserts of Arabia ; and, like them, be subject to the depredations of the marauder. Here may spring up new and mongrel races, like new formations in geology, the amalga- mation of the "debris" and *' abrasions" of former races, civilized and savage ; the remains of broken and almost extingrished tribes ; the descendants of wandering Lw.aters and trap- Tl ■■ ;. V t t; ' I i 1, t W I till ill 111 i^'li L, 3^4 Betocta pers ; of fugitives from the Spanish and Amer- ican frontiers ; of adventurers and d^isperadoes of every class and country, yearly ejected from the bosom of society into the wilderness. We are contributing incessantly to swell this singu- lar and heterogeneous cloud of wild population that is to hang about our frontier, by the trans- fer of whole tribes from the east of the Missis- sippi to the great wastes of the far West. Many of these bear with them the smart of real or fancied injuries; many consider them- selves expatriated beings, wrongfully exiled from their hereditary homes, and the sepul- chres of their fathers, and cherish a deep and abiding animosity against the race that has dis- possessed them. Some may gradually become pastoral hordes, like those rude and migratory people, half shepherd, half warrior, who, with their flocks and herds, roam the plains of upper Asia ; others, it is to be apprehended, will become predatory bands, mounted on the fleet steeds of the prairies, with the open plains for their marauding grounds, and the mountains for their retreats and hirking-places. Here they may resemble those great hordes of the North, " Gog and Magog with their bands," that haunted the gloomy imaginations of the prophets. **A great company and a mighty host, all riding upon horses, and warring upon Bpprebended Danders 315 those nations which were at rest, and dwelt peaceably, and had gotten cattle and goods." The Spaniards changed the whole character and habits of the Indians when they brought the horse among them. In Chili, Tucuman, and other parts, it has converted them, we are toid, into Tartar-like tribes, and enabled them to keep the Spaniards out of their country, and even to make it dangerous for them to venture far from their towns and settlements. Are we not in danger of producing some such state of things in the boundless regions of the far West ? That these are not mere fanciful and extrava- gant suggestions we have sufficient proofs in the dangers already experienced by the trad- ers to the Spanish mart of Santa Fe, and to the distant posts of the fur companies. These are obliged to proceed in armed caravans, and are subject to murderous attacks from bands of Pawnees, Comanches, and Blackfeet, that come scouring upon them in their weary march across the plains, or lie in wait for them among the passes of the mountains. We are wandering, however, into excursive speculations, when our intention was merely to give an idea of the nature of the wilderness which Mr. Hunt was about to traverse ; and which at that time was far less known than at present ; though it still remains, in a great t> : ■ i' i 1' ' I ) \ I 1 TOli I' fi ''I ^• : ■■.I ■\ ■•■ t: 316 Bdtoria measure, an unknown land. We cannot be surprised, therefore, that some of the least res- olute of his party should feel dismay at the thought of adventuring into this perilous wil- derness under the uncertain guidance of three hunters, who had merely passed once through the country and might have forgotten the landmarks. Their apprehensions were ag- gravated by some of Lisa's followers, who, not being engaged in the expedition, took a mischievous pleasure in exaggerating its dangers. They painted in strong colors, to the poor Canadian voyageurs^ the risk they would run of perishing with hunger and thirst ; of being cut off by war-parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains ; of hav- ing their horses stolen by the Upsarokas or Crows, who infested the skirts of the Rocky Mountains ; or of being butchered by the Black- feet, who lurked among the defiles. In a word, there was little chance of their getting alive across the mountains ; and even if they did, those three guides knew nothing of the howl- ing wilderness that lay beyond. The apprehensions thus awakened in the minds of some of the men came well-nigh proving detrimental to the expedition. Some of them determined to desert, and to make their way back to St. I^ouis. They accordingly XTbe Crow f tiMans 317 purloined several weapons and a barrel of gun- powder, as ammunition for their enterprise, and buried them in the river bank, intending to seize one of the boats, and make oflf in the night. Fortunately their plot was overheard by John Day, the Kentuckian, and communi- cated to the partners, who took quiet and effectual means to frustrate it. The dangers to be apprehended from the Crow Indians had not been overrated by the camp gossips. These savages, through whose mountain haunts the party would have to pass, were noted for daring and excursive habits, and great dexterity in horse stealing. Mr. Hunt, therefore, considered himself fortu- nate in having met with a man who might be of great use to him in any intercourse he might have with the tribe. This was a wandering individual named Edward Rose, whom he had picked up somewhere on the Missouri, one of those anomalous beings found on the frontier, who seem to have neither kin nor country. He lived some time among the Crows, so as to become acquainted with their language and customs ; and was, withal, a dogged, sullen, silent fellow, with a sinister aspect, and more of the savage than the civilized man in his appearance. He was engaged to serve in gen- eral as a hunter, but as guide and interpreter if M ».i .{ !(■ 318 B0torfa when they should reach the country of the Crows. On the 1 8th of July, Mr. Hunt took up his line of March by land from the Arickara vil- lage, leaving Mr. Lisa and Mr. Nuttall there, where they intended to await the expected arrival of Mr. Henry from the Rocky Moun- tains. As to Messrs. Bradbury and Brecken- ridge they had departed some days previously, on a voyage down the river to St. I^ouis, with a detachment from Mr. Lisa's party. With all his exertions, Mr. Hunt had been unable to obtain a sufl&cient number of horses for the accommodation of all his people. His caval- cade consisted of eighty-two horses, most of them heavily laden with Indian goods, beaver traps, ammunition, Indian corn, corn meal, and other necessaries. Each of the partners was mounted, and a horse was allotted to the inter- preter, Pierre Dorion, for the transportation of his luggage and his two children. His squaw, for the most part of the time, trudged on foot, like the residue of the party ; nor did any of the men show more patience and fortitude than this resolute woman in enduring fatigue and hardship. The veteran trappers and voyageurs of Lisa's party shook their heads as their comrades set out, and took leave of them as of doomed men ; departure trom tbe BricHaras 319 and even Lisa himself gave it as his opinion, after the travellers had departed, they would never reach the shores of the Pacific, but would either perish with hunger in the wilderness, or be cut oflf by the savages. I ! • < 1 . i-l v'> :| i Ml (Tbrpler f f f irif^ Summer Weather of the Prairies — Purity of the At- mosphere — Canadians on the March — Sickness in the Camp — Big River — Suggestions About the Original Indian Names — Character of the Chey- ennes — Historical Anecdotes of the Tribe. ', i •'' THK course taken by Mr. Hunt was at first to the northwest, but soon turned and kept generally to the southwest, to avoid the country infested by the Blackfeet. His route took him across some of the tributary streams of the Missouri, and over immense prairies, bounded only by the horizon, and destitute of trees. It was now the height of summer, and these naked plains would be intolerable to the traveller wer i it not for tLe breezes which sweep over them during the fervor of the day, bringing with them temper- ing airs from the distant mountains. To the prevalence of these breezes, and to the want of all leafy covert, may we also attribute the 320 K t I Zbc Btmoepbcre ot tbe praicie0 331 freedom from those flies and other insects so tormenting to man and beast during the sum- mer months, in the lower plains, which are bordered and interspersed with woodland. The monotony of these immense landscapes, also, would be as wearisome as that of the ocean, were it not relieved in some degree by the purity and elasticity of the atmosphere, and the beauty of the heavens. The sky has that delicious blue for which the sky of Italy is renowned ; the sun shines with a splendor unobscured by any cloud or vapor, and a star- light night on the prairies is glorious. This purity and elasticity of atmosphere increases as the traveller approaches the mountains and gradually rises into more elevated prairies. On the second day of the journey, Mr. Hunt arranged the party into small and convenient messes, distributing among them the camp kettles. The encampments at night were as before ; some sleeping under tents, and others bivouacking in the open air. The Canadians proved as patient of toil and hardship on the land as on the water ; indeed, nothing could surpass the patience and good-humor of these men upon the march. They were the cheerful drudges of the party, loading and unloading the horses, pitching the tents, making the fires, cooking ; in short, performing all those house- VOL. I— ax 1! ^ !t i ; -1 li I 322 Betoria hold and menial offices which the Indians usually assign to the squaws ; and, like the squaws, they left all the hunting and fighting to others. A Canadian has but little affection for the exercise of the rifle. The progress of the party was but slow for the first few days. Some of the men were indisposed ; Mr. Crooks, especially, was so unwell that he could not keep on his horse. A rude kind of litter was, therefore, prepared for him, consisting of two long poles, fixed, one on each side of two horses, with a matting between them, on which he reclined at full length, and was protected from the sun by a canopy of boughs. On the evening of the 23d ( July) they en- camped on the banks of what they term Big River ; and here we cannot but pause to lament the stupid, commonplace, and often ribald names entailed upon the rivers and other features of the great West, by traders and settlers. As the aboriginal tribes of these magnificent regions are yet in existence, the Indian names might easily be recovered ; which, beside being in general more sonorous and musical, would remain mementoes of the primitive lords of the soil, of whom in a little while scarce any traces will be left. Indeed, it is to be wished that the whole of our country Camp of Cbei^enne InMans 323 ^ould be rescued, as much as possible, from the wretched nomenclature inflicted upon it, by ignorant and vulgar minds ; and this might be done, in a great degree, by restoring the Indian names, wherever significant and eupho- nious. A3 there appears to be a spirit of research abroad in respect to our aboriginal antiquities, we would suggest, as a worthy object of enterprise, a map, or maps, of every part of our country, giving the Indian names wherever they could be ascertained. Whoever achieves such an object worthily, will leave a monument to his own reputation. To return from this digression. As the travellers were now in a country abounding with buffalo, they remained for several days encamped upon the banks of Big River, to obtain a supply of provisions, and to give the invalids time to recruit. On the second day of their sojourn, as Ben Jones, John Day, and others of the hunters were in pursuit of game, they came upon an Indian camp on the open prairie, near to a small stream which ran through a ravine. The tents or lodges were of dressed buffalo skins, sewn together and stretched on tapering pine poles, joined at top, but radiating at bot- tom, so as to form a circle capable of admitting fifty persons. Numbers of horses were grazing (/ ( . ) ■ 1 ■ H (I V Jf il t I ; 324 Betoria in the neighborhood of the camp, or straying at large in the prairie ; a sight most acceptable to the hunters. After reconnoitring the camp for some time, they ascertained it to belong to a band of Cheyenne Indians, the same that had sent a deputation to the Arickaras. They received the hunters in the most friendly man- ner ; invited them to their lodges, which were more cleanly than Indian lodges are prone to be, and set food before them with true uncivil- ized hospitality. Several of them accompanied the hunters back to the camp, when a trade was immediately opened. The Cheyennes were astonished and delighted to find a convoy of goods and trinkets thus brought into the very heart of the prairie ; while Mr. Hunt and his companions were overjoyed to have an oppor- tunity of obtaining a further supply of horses from these equestrian savages. During a fortnight that the travellers lin- gered at this place, their encampment was con- tinually thronged by the Cheyennes. They were a civil, well-behaved people, cleanly in their persons and decorous in their habits. The men were tall, straight, and vigorous, witli aquiline noses and high cheek bones. Some were almost as naked as ancient statues, and might have stood as models for a statuary ; others had leggings and moccasins of deer-skin, Indian f)or0e0 m and buffalo robes, which they threw gracefully over their shoulders. In a little while, how- ever, they began to appear in more gorgeous array, tricked out in the finery obtained from the white men ; bright cloths, brass rings, beads of various colors ; and happy was he who could render himself hideous with ver- milion. The travellers had frequent occasion to ad- mire the skill and grace with which these In- dians managed their horses. Some of them made a striking display when mounted, them- selves and their steeds decorated in gala style ; for the Indians often bestow more finery upon their horses than upon themselves. Some would hang around the necks, or rather on the breasts of their horses, the most precious orna- ments they had obtained from the white men ; others interwove feathers in their manes and tails. The Indian horses, too, appear to have an attachment to their wild riders ; and indeed it is said that the horses of the prairies readily distinguish an Indian from a white man by the smell, and give a preference to the former. Yet the Indians, in general, are hard riders, and, however they may value their horses, treat them with great roughness and neglect. Oc- casionally the Cheyennes joined the white hunters iu pursuit of the elk and buffalo ; and i- 396 B0tocta K I i -i. when in the ardor of the chase, spared neither themselves nor their steeds ^ouring the prai- ries at full j-*peed, and plunging down precipices and frightful ravines that threatened the necks of both horse and horseman. The Indian steed, well trained to the chase, seems as mad as the rider, and pursues the game as eagerly as if it were its natural prey, on the flesh of which he was to banquet. The history of the Cheyennes is that of many of those wandering tribes of the prairies. They were the remnant of a once powerful people called the Shaways, inhabiting a branch of the Red River which flows into I^ake Winnipeg. Every Indian tribe has some rival tribe with which it wages implacable hostility. The deadly enemies of the Shaways were the Sioux, who, after a long course of warfare, proved too powerful for them, and drove them across the Missouri. They again took root near the Warricanne Creek, and established themselves there in a fortified village. The Sioux still followed them with deadly animosity ; dislodged them from their village, and compelled them to take refuge in the Black Hills, near the upper waters of the Sheyenne or Cheyenne River. Here they lost even their name, and became known among the French colonists by that of the river they frequented. i . ' ^■*- 'f>idtoricaI BnecDotee 327 I h The heart of the tribe was now broken ; its numbers were greatly thinned by their harass- ing wars. They no longer attempted to es- tablish themselves in any permanent abode that might be an object of attack to their cruel foes. They gave up the cultivation of the fruits of the earth, and b(.'came a wandering tribe, subsisting by the ct.ase, and following the buffalo in its migrations. Their only possessions were horses, which they caught on the prairies, or reared, or cap- tured on predatory incursions into the Mexican territories, as has already been mentioned. With some of these they repaired once a year to the Arickara villages, exchanged them for corn, beans, pumpkins, and articles of Euro- pean merchandise, and then returned into the heart of the prairies. Such are the fluctuating fortunes of these savage nations. War, famine, pestilence, to- gether or singly, bring down their strength and thin their numbers. Whole tribes are rooted up from their native places, wander for a time about these immense regions, be- come amalgamated with other tribes, or disap- pear from the face of the earth. There appears to be a tendency to extinction among all the savage nations ; and this tendency would seem to have been in operation among the aborigi- us j » 11 II ; I ; ■ in Ui ft ?! ^ ! . I: ' I 328 Betoria nals of this country long before the advent of the white men, if we may judge from the traces and traditions of ancient populousness in re- gioR«'i which were silent and deserted at the time of the discovery ; and from the mysteri- ous and perplexing vestiges of unknown races, predecessors of those found in actual possession, and who must long since have become gradually extinguished or been destroyed. The whole history of the aboriginal population of this country, however, is an enigma, and a grand one — ^Will it ever be solved ? * \ ^J^ Cbapter f f f ID II f New Distributic^i of Horses— Rose, the Interpreter— His Perfidious Character — Anecdotes of the Crow Indians— A Desperado of the Frontier. ff ON the sixth of August the travellers bade farewell to the friendly band of Cheyennes, and resumed their jour- ney. As they had obtained thirty-six additional horses by their recent trafl&c, Mr. Hunt made a new arrangement. The baggage was made up in smaller loads. A horse was allotted to each of the six prime hunters, and others were distributed among the voyageurs, a horse for every two, so that they could ride and walk alternately. Mr. Crooks being still too feeble to mount the saddle, was carried on a litter. Their march this day lay among singular hills and knolls of an indurated red earth, resembling brick, about the bases of which were scattered pumice stones and cinders, the 329 \S I M h^ 1 i I: . ^ 330 Bstoria whole bearing traces of the action of fire. In the evening they encamped on a branch of Big River. They were now out of the tract of country infested by the Sioux, and had advanced such a distance into the interior that Mr. Hunt no longer felt apprehensive of the desertion of any of his men. He was doomed, however, to experience new cause of anxiety. As he was seated in his tent after nightfall, one of the men came to him privately, and informed him that there was mischief brewing in the camp. Edward Rose, the interpreter, whose sinister looks we have already mentioned, was denounced by this secret informer as a design- ing, treacherous scoundrel, who was tamper- ing with the fidelity of certain of the men, and instigating them to a flagrant piece of treason. In the course of a few days they would arrive at the mountainous district in- fested by the Upsarokas or Crows, the tribe among which Rose was to officiate as interpre- ter. His plan was that several of the men should join with him, when in that neighbor- hood, in carrying off" a number of horses with their packages of goods, and deserting to those savages. He assured them of good treatment among the Crows, the principal chiefs and warriors of whom he knew ; they would soon 1)i0tori? ot tbe Crow0 331 become great men among them, and have the finest women, and the daught'^rs of the chiefs for wives ; and the horses and goods they carried off would make them rich for life. The intelligence of this treachery on the part of Rose gave much disquiet to Mr. Hunt, for he knew not how far it might be effective among his men. He had already had proofs that several of them were disaffected to the enteiprise, and loath to cross the mountains. He knew also that savage life had charms for many of them, especially the Canadians, who were prone to intermarry and domesticate themselves among the Indi ins. And here a word or two concerning the Crows may be of service to the reader, as thej' will figure occasionally in the succeeding nar- ration. The tribe consists of four bands, which have their nestling-places in fertile, well-v/ooded valleys, lying among the Rocky Mountains, and watered by the Big Horse River and its tributary streams ; but, though these are properly their homes, where they shelter their old people, their wives, and their children, the men of the tribe are almost continually on the foray and the scamper. They are, in fact, notorious marauders and horse-stealers ; cross- ing and recrossing the mountains, robbing on 4 M 1 ]\ 1 If \ ^, » I « 332 B0toria the one side, and conveying their spoils to the other. Hence, we are told, is derived their name, given to them on account of their unset- tled and predatory habits ; winging their flight like the crows, from one side of the mountains to the other, and making free booty of every- thing that lies in their way. Horses, however, are the especial objects of their depredations, and their skill and audacity in stealing them are said to be astonishing. This is their glory and delight ; an accomplished horse-stealer fills up their idea of a hero. Many horses are obtained by them, also, in barter from tribes in and beyond the mountains. They have an absolute passion for this noble animal ; beside which he is with them an important object of traffic. Once a year they make a visit to the Mandans, Minatarees, and other tribes of the Missouri, taking with them droves of horses which they exchanged for guns, ammunition, trinkets, vermilion, cloths of bright colors, and various other articles of European manu- facture. With these they supply their own wants and caprices, and carry on the internal trade for horses already mentioned. The plot of Rose to rob and abandon his countrymen when in the heart of the wilder- ness, and to throw himself into the hands of a horde of savages, may appear strange and B Z^eepera^o ot tbe frontier 333 >ils to the ved their eir unset- leir flight lountains of eveiy- however, redations, ing them beir glory tealer fills orses are 1 tribes in have an =il ; beside object of isit to the )es of the of horses munition, [it colors, an manu- their own e internal andon his he wilder- i hands of range and improbable to those unacquainted with the singular and anomalous characters that are to be found about the borders. This fellow, it appears, was one of those desperadoes of the « frontiers, outlawed by their crimes, who com- bine the vices of civilized and savage life, and are ten times more barbarous than the Indians with whom they consort. Rose had formerly belonged to one of the gangs of pirates who infested the islands of the Mississippi, plun- dering boats as they went up and down the river, and who sometimes shifted the scene of their robberies to the shore, waylaying travel- lers as they returned by land from New Or- leans with the proceeds of their downward voyage, plundering them of their money and effects, and often perpetrating the most atro- cious murders. These hordes of villains being broken up and dispersed. Rose had betaken himself to the wilderness, and associated himself with the Crows, whose predatory habits were congenial with his own, had married a woman of the tribe, and, in short, had identified himself with those vagrant savages. Such was the worthy guide and interpreter, Edward Rose. We give his story, however, not as it was known to Mr. Hunt and his com- panions at the time, but as it has been subse- fi 334 Bstocfa V quently ascertained. Enough was known of the fellow and his dark and perfidious charac- ter to put Mr. Hunt upon his guard ; still, as there was no knowing how far his plans might have su'^ceedefl, ^nd as any rash act might blew the im..:<: ar \ouldcring ; parks of treason into a su !den laze, it was thought advisable by those \\*th"v /! >m Mr. Hunt consulted, to conceal all knowledge or suspicion of the medi- tated treachery, but to keep up a vigilant watch upon the movements of Rose, and a strict guard upon the horses at night. ■f: V , li Cbaptcr f f 0. Substitute for Fuel on the Prairies — Three Hunters Missing— Signal Fires and Smokes — New Arrange- ment with Rose— Return of the Wanderers. THE plains over which the travellers were journeying continued to be destitute l 1 trees or even shrubs ; insomuch that they had to use the dung of the buffalo for fuel, as the Arabs of the desert use that of the camel. This substitute for fuel is universal among the Indians of these upper prairies, and is said to make a fire equal to that of turf. If a few chips are added, it throws out a cheerful and kindly blaze. ' These plains, however, had not always been equally destitute of wood, as was evident from the trunks of the trees which the travellers re- peatedly met with, some still standing, others lying about in broken fragments, but a 11 in a fossil state, having flourished in times long past. In these singular remains, the original 335 336 B0totia grain of the wood was still so distinct that they could be ascertained to be the ruins of oak trees. Several pieces of the fossil wood were selected by the men to serve as whet- stones. In this part of the journey there was no lack of provisions, for the prairies were covered with immense herds of bufifalo. These, in general, are animals of peaceful demeanor, grazing quietly like domestic cattle ; but this was the season when they are in heat, and when the bulls are usually fierce and pugna- cious. There was accordingly a universal rest- lessness and commotion throughout the plain ; and the amorous herds gave utterance to their feelings in low bellowings that resounded like distant thunder. Here and there fierce duellos took place between rival enamorados ; but- ting their huge shagged fronts together, gor- ing each other with their short black horns, and tearing up the earth with their feet in perfect fury. In one of the evening halts, Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, together with Carson and Gard- pie, two of the hunters, were missing ; nor had they returned by morning. As it was sup- posed they had wandered away in pursuit of buffalo, and would readily find the track of the party, no solicitude was felt on their account. Si0nal fitce nt A. fire was left burning, to guide them by its column of smoke, and the travellers proceeded on their march. In the evening a signal fire was made on a hill adjacent to the camp, and in the morning it was replenished with fuel so as to last throughout the day. These signals are usual among the Indians, to give warnings to each other, or to call home straggling hunt- ers ; and such is the transparency of the atmos- phere in those elevated plains, that a slight column of smoke can be discerned from a great distance, particularly in the evenings. Two or three days elapsed, however, without the reappearance of the three hunters ; and Mr. Hunt slackened his march to give them time to overtake him. A vigilant watch continued to be kept upon the movements of Rose, and of such of the men as were considered doubtful in their loyalty ; but nothing occurred to excite immediate ap- prehensions. Rose evidently was not a favoi- ite among his comrades, and it was hoped that he had not been able to make any real parti- sans. On the loth of August they encamped among hills, on the highest peak of which Mr. Hunt caused a huge pyre of pine wood to be made, which soon sent up a great column of flame that might be seen far and wide over the prai- VOL. I. — S3 1 f (i >1 I' .1* ^1.; 1 1 338 B0toria ries. This fire blazed all night, and was amply replenished at daybreak ; so that the towering pillar of smoke could not but be descried by the wanderers if within the distance of a day's journey. It is a common occurrence in these regions, where the features of the country so much re- semble each other, for hunters to lose them- selves and wander for many days, before they can find their way back to the main body of their party. In the present instance, however, a more than common solicitude was felt, in consequence of the distrust awakened by the sinister designs of Rose. The route now became excessively toilsome, over a ridge of steep rocky hills, covered with loose stones. These were intersected by deep valleys, formed by two branches of Big River, coming from the south of west, both of which they crossed. These streams were bordered by meadows, well stocked with bufialoes. lyoads of meat were brought in by the hunt- ers ; but the travellers were rendered dainty by profusion, and would cook only the choice pieces. They had now travelled for several days at a very slow rate, and had made signal-fires and left traces of their, route at every stage, yet nothing was heard or seen of the lost men. It B JSclbe to be f)onc0t 339 t began to be feared that they might have fallen into the hands of some lurking band of sav- ages. A party numerous as that of Mr. Hunt, with a long train of pack-horses, moving across open plains or naked hills, is discoverable at a great distance by Indian scouts, who spread the intelligence rapidly to various points, and assemble their friends to hang about the skirts of the travellers, steal their horses, or cut off any stragglers from the main body. Mr. Hunt and his companions were more and more sensible how much it would be in the power of this sullen and daring vagabond Rose to do them mischief, when they should become entangled in the defiles of the moun- tains, with the passes of which they were wholly unacquainted, and which were infested by his freebooting friends, the Crows. There, should he siicceed in seducing some of the party into his plans, he might carry off the best horses and effects, throw himself among his savage allies, and set all pursuit at defiance. Mr. Hunt resolved, therefore, to frustrate the knave, divert him, by management, from his plans, and m. ke it sufficiently advantageous for him to remain honest. He took occasion, accordingly, in the course of conversation, to inform Rose that, having engaged him chiefly as a guide and interpreter through the country i i < I, '\ ; III' ii i H: iMil II »:','; Ill :( > 340 Bdtorfa of the Crows, they would not stand in need of his services beyond. Knowing, therefore, his connection bj^ marriage with that tribe, and his predilection for a residence among them, they woiild put no restraint upon his will, but, whenever they met with a party of that people, would leave him at liberty to remain among his adopted brethren. Furthermore, that, in thus parting with him, they would pay him half a year's wages in consideration of his past services, and would give him a horse, three beaver traps, and sundry other articles calcu- lated to set him up in the world. 4 This u»^ expected liberality, which made it nearly as profitable and infinitely less hazard- ous for Rose to remain honest than to play the rogue, completely disarmed him. From that time his whole deportment underwent a change. His brow cleared up and appeared more cheerful ; he left off his sullen, skulking habits, and made no further attempts to tamper with the faith of his comrades. On the 13th of August Mr. Hunt varied his course, and inclined westward, in hopes of falling in with the three lost hunters ; who, it was nov7 thought, might have kept to the right hand of Big River. This course soon brought him to a fork of the Little Missouri, about a hundred yards wide, and resembling Zbe Xo0t UKscn jfounD 341 the great river of the same name in the strength (►r its current, its turbid water, and the fre- ([uency of driftwood and sunken trees. Rugged mountains appeared ahead, crowd- ing down to the water edge, and offering a barrier to further progress on the side they were ascending. Crossing the river, therefore, they encamped on its northwest bank, where they found good pasturage and buffalo in abundance. The weather was overcast and rainy, and a general gloom pervaded the camp ; the voyageurs sat smoking in groups, with their shoulders as high as their heads, croak- ing their foreboding, when suddenly towards evening a shout of joy gave notice that the lost men were found. They came slowly lag- ging into the camp, with weary looks, and horses jaded and wayworn. They had, in fact, been for several days incessantly on the move. In their hunting excursion on the prairies they had pushed so far in pursuit of buffalo, as to find it impossible to retrace their steps over plains trampled by innumerable herds ; and were baffled by the monotony of the landscape in their attempts to recall landmarks. They had ridden to and fro until they had almost lost the points of the compass, and become totally bewildered ; nor did they ever perceive any of the signal fires and columns of smoke J \ \ If i' '■■ s : t • t ,,i h'^ \ 343 Bdtocia made by their comrades. At length, about two days previously, when almost spent by anxiety and hard riding, they came, to their great joy, upon the "trail" of the party, which they had since followed up steadily. Those only, who have experienced the warm cordiality that grows up between comrades in wild and adventurous expeditions of the kind, can picture to themselves the hearty cheering with which the stragglers were welcomed to the camp. Every one crowded round them to ask questions, and to hear the story of their mishaps ; and even the squaw of the moody half-breed, Pierre Dorion, forgot the sternness of his domestic rule, and the conjugal disci- pline of the cudgel, in her joy at his safe return. . ' % Cbapter fflDf* The Black Mountains — Haunts of Predatory Indians — Secret Mines — Hidden Treasures — Black-Tailed Deer — The Bighorn or Ahsahta — Plain with Herds of Buffalo— Distant Peaks of the Rocky Mountains — Adventures of William Cannon and John Day with Grizzly Bears. M R. HUNT and his party were now on the skirts of the Black Hills, or Black Mountains, as they are some- -^ times called ; an extensive chain, ly- ing about a hundred miles east of the Rocky Mountains, and stretching in a northeast direc- tion from the south fork of the Nebraska, or Platte River, to the great north bend of the Missouri. The Sierra or ridge of the Black Hills, in fact, forms the dividing line between the waters of the Missouri and those of the Arkansas and the Mississippi, and gives rise to the Cheyenne, the I^ittle Missouri, and several tributary streams of the Yellowstone. 343 I: f , l 1 1 I f ! 344 B0torfa The wild recesses of these hills, like those of the Rocky Mountains, are retreats and lurk- ing-places for broken and predatory tribes, and it was among them that the remnant of the Cheyenne tribe took refuge, as has been stated, from their conquering enemies, the Sioux. The Black Hills are chiefly composed of sandstone, and in many places are broken into savage cliffs and precipices, and present the most singular and fantastic forms ; sometmi^'s resembling towns and castellated fortresses. The ignorant inhabitants of plains are prone to clothe the mountains that bound their hori- zon with fanciful and superstitious attributes. Thus the wandering tribes of the prairies, who often behold clouds gathering round the sum- mits of these hills, and lightning flashing, and thunder pealing from them, when all the neighboring plains are serene and sunny, con- sider them the abode of the genii or thunder- spirits who fabricate storms and tempests. On entering their defiles, therefore, they often hang offerings on the trees, or place them on the rocks, to propitiate the invisible "lords of the mountains," and procure good weather and successful hunting ; and they attach un- usual significance to the echoes which haunt the precipices. This superstition may also have arisen, in part, from a natural phenome- )metim^s Singular Aountain pbenomcnon 345 non of a singular nature. In the most calm and serene weather, and at all times of the day or night, sticcessive reports are now and then heard among these mountains, resembling the discharge of several pieces of artillery. Similar reports were heard by Messrs. Lewis and Clarke in the Rocky Mountains, which they say were attributed by the Indians to the bursting of the rich mines of silver contained in the bosom of the mountains. In fact, these singular explosions have re- ceived fanciful explanations from learned men, and have not been satisfactorily accounted for even by philosophers. They are said to occur frequently in Brazil. V asconcelles, a Jesuit father, describes one v/hich he heard in the Sierra, or mountain regio.i of Piratininga, and which he compares to the discharges of a park of artillery. The Indian;? told him it was an explosion of stones. Th« worthy father had soon a satisfactory proof of the truth of their information, for the very place was found where a rock had burst and exploded from its entrails a stony mass, like a bomb-shell, and of the size of a bull's heart. This mass was broken either in its ejection or its fall, and wondei ful was the internal organization revealed. It had a shell harder even than iron ; within which were arranged, like the seeds of a pomegran- 4 f iifi i ) , \' , 346 Bdtotia • i ate, jewels of various colors ; some transparent as crystal ; others of a fine red, and others of mixed hues. The same phenomenon is said to occur occasionally in the adjacent province of Guayra, where stones of the bigness of a man's hand are exploded, with a loud noise, from the bosom of the earth, and scatter about glittering and beautiful fragments that look like precious gems, but are of no value. The Indians of the Orellanna, also, tell of horrible noises heard occasionally in the Para- gtiaxo, which they consider the throes and groans of the mountain, endeavoring to cast forth the precious stones hidden within its en- trails. Others have endeavored to account for these discharges of "moimtain artillery" on humbler principles ; attributing them to the loud reports made by the disruption and fall of great masses of rock, reverberated and pro- longed by the echoes ; others, to the disengage- ment of hydrogen, produced by subterraneous beds of coal in a state of ignition. In what- ever way this singular phenomenon may be accounted for, the existence of it appears to be well established. It remains one of the linger- ing mysteries of nature which throw something of a supernatural charm over her wild moun- tain solitudes; and we doubt whether the imaginative reader will not rather join with -I ^be JSiaborn 347 the poor Indian in attributing it to the thun- der-spirits, or the guardian genii of unseen treasures, than to any commonplace physical cause. Whatever might be the supernatural influ- ences among these mountains, the travellers found their physical difficulties hard to cope with. They made repeated attempts to find a passage through or over the chain, but were as often turned back by impassable barriers. Sometimes a defile seemed to open a practica- ble path, but it would terminate in some wild chaos of rocks and cliffs, which it was impos- sible to climb. The animals of these solitary regions were different from those the," had been accustomed to. The black-tailed deer would bound up the ravines on their approach, and the bighorn would gaze fearlessly down upon them from some impending precipice, or skip playfully from rock to rock. These ani- mals are only to be met with in mountainous regions. The former is larger than the com- mon deer, but its flesh is not equally esteemed by hunters. It has very large ears, and the tip of the tail is black, from which it derives its name. The bighorn is so named from its horns ; which are of a great size, and twisted like those of a ram. It is called by some the ar- \{ M 'W Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 352 Bdtorfa he had been practising ever since he had joined the expedition, but without success. In the course of the present afternoon, he went forth by himself to take a lesson in venerie, and, to his great delight, had the good fortune to kill a buffalo. As he was a considerable distance from the camp, he cut out the tongue and some of the choice bits, made them into a parcel, and slinging them on his shoulders by a strap passed round his forehead, as the voyageurs carry packages of goods, set out all glorious for the camp, anticipating a triumph over his brother hunters. In passing through a narrow ravine, he heard a noise behind him, and look- ing round beheld, to his dismay, a grizzly bear in full pursuit, apparently attracted by the scent of the meat. Cannon had heard so much of the invulnerability of this tremendous animal, that he never attempted to fire, but, slipping the strap from his forehead, let go the buffalo meat and ran for his life. The bear did not stop to regale himself with the game, but kept on after the hunter. He had nearly overtaken him when Cannon reached a tree, and, throw- ing down his rifle, scrambled up it. The next instant Bruin was at the foot of the tree ; but, as this species of bear does not climb, he con- tented himself with turning the chase into a blockade. Night came on. In the darkness )i I 5obn S>ai? and tbe 6ri33li? JSear 353 Cannon could not perceive whether or not the enemy maintained his station ; but his fears pictured him rigorously mounting guard. He passed the night, therefore, in the tree, a prey to dismal fancies. In the morning the bear was gone. Cannon warily descended the tree, gathered up his gun, and made the best of his way back to the camp, without venturing to look after his buffalo meat. While on this theme we will add another anecdote of an adventure with a grizzly bear, told of John Day, the Kentucky hunter, but which happened at a different period of the expedition. Day was hunting in company with one of the clerks of the company, a lively youngster, who was a great favorite with the veteran, but whose vivacity he had continually to keep in check. They were in search of deer, when suddenly a huge grizzly bear emerged from a thicket about thirty yards distant, rear- ing himself upon his hind legs with a terrific growl, and displaying a hideous array of teeth and claws. The rifle of the young man was levelled in an instant, but John Day's iron hand was as quickly upon his arm. " Be quiet, boy ! be quiet ! ' ' exclaimed the hunter between his clenched teeth, and without turning his eyes from the bear. They remained motion- less. The monster regarded them for a time, VOL. I--t3 /^ V.' ij l: ' 354 Bdtocia then, lowering himself on his fore paws, slowly withdrew. He had not gone many paces be- fore he again returned, reared himself on his hind legs, and repeated his menace. Day's hand was still on the arm of his young com- panion ; he again pressed it hard, and kept repeating between his teeth : " Quiet, boy ! — keep quiet ! — keep quiet ! " — though the latter had not made a move since his first prohibition. The bear again lowered himself on all fours, retreated some twenty yards farther, and again turned, reared, showed his teeth, and growled. This third menace was too much for the game spirit of John Daj'. " By Jove ! " exclaimed he, "I can stand this no longer," and in an instant a ball from his rifle whizzed into the foe. The wound was not mortal ; but, luckily, it dismayed instead of enraging the animal, and he retreated into the thicket. Day's young companion reproached him for not practising the caution which he enjoined upon others. " Why, boy," replied the vete- ran, ** caution is caution, but one must not put up with too much, even from a bear. Would you have me suffer myself to be bullied all day by a varmint?" ; A Cbapter f fMf . Indian Trail— Rough Mountain Travelling — Suffering from Hunger and Thirst— Powder River— A Hunt- er's Paradise — Rocky Mountains— The Great Ameri- can Desert — Various Characteristics of the Moun- tains — Indian Superstitions Concerning Them. FOR the two following days, the travellers pursued a westerly course for thirty- four miles along a ridge of country dividing the tributary waters of the Missouri and Yellowstone. As landmarks they guided themselves by the summits of the far distant mountains, which they supposed to be- long to the Bighorn chain. They were gradu- ally rising into a higher temperature, for the weather was cold for the season, with a sharp frost in the night, and ice of an eighth of an inch in thickness. On the twenty-second of August, early in the day, they came upon the trail of a numer- ous band. Rose and the other hunters exam- 355 , tl 356 B0totia ined the foot-prints with great attention, and determined it to be the trail of a party of Crows, returning from an annual trading visit to the Mandans. As this trail afforded more commo- dious travelling, they immediately struck into it, and followed it for two days. It led them over rough hills, and through broken gullies, during which time they suffered great fatigue from the ruggedness of the country. The weather, too, which had recently been frosty, was now oppressively warm, and there was a great scarcity of water, insomuch that a valua- ble dog belonging to Mr. M'Kenzie died of thirst. At one time they had twenty-five miles of painful travel, without a drop of water, until they arrived at a small running stream. Here they eagerly slaked their thirst ; but, this being allayed, the calls of hunger became equally im- portunate. Ever since they had got among these barren and arid hills, where there was a deficiency of grass, they had met with no buffa- loes ; those animals keeping in the grassy meadows near the streams. They were obliged, therefore, to have recourse to their corn meal, which they reserved for such emergencies. Some, however, were lucky enough to kill a wolf, which they cooked for supper, and pro- nounced excellent food. \ ' unter'0 pacaMee 357 The next morning they resumed their way- faring, hungry and jaded, and had a dogged march of eighteen miles among the same kind of hills. At length they emerged upon a stream of clear water, one of the forks of Powder River, and to their great joy beheld once more wide grassy meadows, stocked with herds of buffalo. For several days they kept along the banks of the river, ascending it about eighteen miles. It was a hunter's paradise ; the buffaloes were in such abundance that they were enabled to kill as many as they pleased, and to jerk a sufficient supply of meat for sev- eral days* journeying. Here, then, they rev- elled and reposed after their hungry and weary travel, hunting and feasting, and reclining upon the grass. Their quiet, however, was a little marred by coming upon traces of Indians, who, they concluded, must be Crows ; they were therefore obliged to keep a more vigilant watch than ever upon their horses. For sev- eral days they had been directing their march towards the lofty mountain descried by Mr. Hunt and Mr. M'Kenzie on the 17th of Au- gust, the height of which rendered it a land- mark over a vast extent of country. At first it had appeared to them solitary and detached ; but as they advanced towards it, it proved to be the principal summit of a chain of mountains. l! li^ 358 Betocia i' Day by day it varied in form, or rather its lower peaks, and the summits of others of the chain emerged above the clear horizon, and finally the inferior line of hills which connected most of them rose to view. So far, however, are objects discernible in the pure atmosphere of these elevated plains, that from the place where they first descried the main mountain, they had to travel a hundred and fifty miles before they reached its base. Here they encamped, on the 30th of August, having come nearly four hun- dred miles since leaving the Arickara village. The mountain which nov/ towered above them was one of the Bighorn chain, bordered by a river of the same name, and extending a long distance rather east of north and west of south. It was a part of the great system of granite mountains which forms one of the most important and striking features of North America, stretching parallel to the coast of the Pacific from the Isthmus of Panama almost to the Arctic Ocean ; and presenting a correspond- ing chain to that of the Andes in the southern hemisphere. This vast range has acquired, from its rugged and broken character and its summits of naked granite, the appellation of the Rocky Mountains, a name by no means distinctive, as all elevated ranges are rocky. Among the early explorers it was known as ^1 I [J I r XLhc <3reat Bmerfcan Besert 359 the range of Chippewyan Mountains, and this Indian name is the one it is likely to retain in poetic usage. Rising from the midst of vast plains and prairies, traversing several degrees of latitude, dividing the waters of the Atlrntic and the Pacific, and seeming to bind with di- verging ridges the level regions on its flanks, it has been figuratively termed the backbone of the northern continent. The Rocky Mountains do not present a range of uniform elevation, but rather groups and occasionally detached peaks. Though some of these rise to the region of perpetual snows, and are upwards of eleven thousand feet in real altitude, yet their height from their immediate basis is not so great as might be imagined, as they swell up from elevated plains, several thousand feet above the level of the ocean. These plains are often of a desolate sterility ; mere sandy wastes, formed of the detritus of the granite heights, destitute of trees and herb- age, scorched by the ardent and reflected rays of the summer's sun, and in winter swept by chilling blasts from the snow-clad moun- tains. Such is a great part of that vast region extending north and south along the moun- tains, several hundred miles in width, which has not improperly been termed the Great American Desert. It is a region that almost 1 1 7 t ■ If ii Ste Betoria discourages all hope of cultivation, and can only be traversed with safety by keeping near the streams which intersect it. Extensive plains likewise occur among the higher regions of the mountains, of considerable fertility. Indeed, these lofty plats of table-land seem to form a peculiar feature in the American continents. Some occur among the Cordilleras of the An- des, where cities, and towns, and cultivated farms are to be seen eight thousand feet above the level of the sea. The Rocky Mountains, as we have already observed, occur sometimes singly or in groups, and occasionally in collateral ridges. Between these are deep valleys, with small streams winding through them, which find their way into the lower plains, augmenting as they pro- ceed, and ultimately discharging themselves into vast rivers, which traverse the prairies like great arteries, and drain the continent. While the granitic summits of the Rocky Mountains are bleak and bare, many of the inferior ridges are scantily clothed with scrubbed pines, oaks, cedar, and furze. Vari- ous parts of the mountains also bear traces of volcanic action. Some of the interior valleys are strewed with scoria and broken stones, evidently of volcanic origin ; the surrounding rocks bear the like character, and vestiges of ZovftiB ot tbw Oenerou0 Spirits 36 X extinguished craters are to be seen on the elevated heights. We have already noticed the superstitious feelings with which the Indians regard the Black Hills ; but this immense range of moun- tains, which divides all that they know of the world, and gives birth to such mighty rivers, is still more an object of awe and veneration. They call it " the crest of the world," and think that Wacondah, or the master of life, as they designate the Supreme Being, has his resi- dence among these aerial heights. The tribes on the eastern prairies call them the moun- tains of the setting sun. Some of them place the " happy hunting-ground," their ideal par- adise, among the recesses of these mountains ; but say that they are invisible to living men. Here also is the ** I^and of Souls," in which are the ** towns of free and generous spirits," where those who have pleased the master of life while living, enjoy after death all manner of delights. Wonders are told of these mountains by the divStant tribes, whose warriors or hunters have ever wandered in their neighborhood. It is thought by seme that, after death, they will have to travel to these mountains and ascend one of their highest and most rugged peaks, among rocks and snows and tumbling tor- ' !1 i \) ] 961 Betoria rents. After many moons of painful toil they will reach the summit, from whence they will have a view over the land of souls. There they will see the happy hunting-grounds, with the souls of the brave and good living in tents in green meadows, by bright running streams, or hunting the herds of buffalo, and elk, and deer, which have been slain on earth. There, too, they will see the villages or towns of the free and generous spirits brightening in the midst of delicious prairies. If they have acquitted themselves well while living, they will be per- mitted to descend and enjoy this happy coun- try ; if otherwise they will but be tantalized with this prospect of it, and then hurled back from the mountain to wander about the sandy plains, and endure the eternal pangs of unsat- isfied thirst and hunger. '/I Cbapter f f IDf 11. Region of the Crow Indians — A Crow Camp— Pres- ents to the Crow Chief— Crow Bullies — Rose among bis Indian Friends — Parting with the Crows — Esquestrian Children — Search after Stragglers. THE travellers had now arrived in the vicinity of the mountain regions in- fested by the Crow Indians. These restless marauders, as has already been observed, are apt to be continually on the prowl about the skirts of the mountains ; and even when encamped in some deep and se- cluded glen, they keep scouts upon the cliffs and prohiontories, who, unseen themselves, can discern every living thing that moves over the subjacent plains and valleys. It was not to be expected that our travellers could pass unseen through a region thus vigilantly sentinelled ; accordingly, in the edge of the evening, not long after they had encamped at the foot of the 363 ^. : h i .! 'i: / ,' 364 Bdtoria Bighorn Sierra, a couple of wild-looking be- ings, scantily clad in skins, but well armed, and mounted on horses as wild-looking as themselves, were seen approaching with great caution from among the rocks. They might have been mistaken for two of the evils spirits of the mountains so formidable in Indian fable. Rose was immediately sent out to hold a parley with them, and invite them to the camp. They proved to be two scouts from the same band that had been tracked for some days past, and which was now encamped at some dis- tance in the folds of the mountain. They were easily prevailed upon to come to the camp, where they were well received, and, after remaining there until late in the evening, departed to make a report of all they had seen and experienced to their companions. The following day had scarce dawned, when a troop of these wild mountain scamper- ers came galloping with whoops and yells into the camp, bringing an invitation from their chief for the white men to visit him. The tents were accordingly struck, the horses laden, and the party were soon on the march. The Crow horsemen, as they escorted them, appeared to take pride in showing off their equestrian skill and hardihood ; careering at full speed on their half-savage steeds, and Crow 1)or0emaii0bfp 365 i dashing among rocks and crags, and up and down the most rugged and dangerous places with perfect ease and unconcern. A ride of sixteen miles brought them, in the afternoon, in sight of the Crow camp. It was composed of leathern tents, pitched in a meadow on the border of a small clear stream at the foot of the mountain. A great number of horses were grazing in the vicinity, many of them doubtless captured in marauding excursions. The Crow chieftain came forth to meet his guests with great professions of friendship, and conducted them to his tents, pointing out, by the way, a convenient place where they might fix their camp. No sooner had they done so, than Mr. Hunt opened some of the packages and made the chief a present of a scarlet blanket and a quantity of powder and ball ; he gave him also some knives, trinkets, and tobacco to be distributed among his war- riors, with all which the grim potentate seemed, for the time, well pleased. As the Crows, however, were reputed to be perfidious in the extreme, and as errant freebooters as the bird after which they were so worthily named ; and as their general feelings towards the whites were known to be by no means friendly, the intercourse with them was conducted with great circumspection. 'Mi ft/ 1 >l i^ 366 Bdtoria I The following day was passed iu trading with the Crows for buffalo robes and skins, and in bartering galled and jaded horses for others that were in good condition. Some of the men, also, purchased horses on their own account, so that the number now amounted to one hundred and twenty-one, most of them sound and active, and fit for mountain service. Their wants being supplied, they ceased all further traffic, much to the dissatisfaction of the Crows, who became extremely urgent to continue the trade, and, finding their impor- tunities of no avail, assumed an insolent and menacing tone. All this was attributed by Mr. Hunt and his associates to the perfidious instigations of Rose, the interpreter, whom they suspected of the desire to foment ill-will be- tween them and the savages, for the promotion of his nefarious plans. M*I^ellan, with his usual tranchant mode of dealing out justice, resolved to shoot the desperado on the spot in case of any outbreak. Nothing of the kind, however, occurred. The Crows were probably daunted by the resolute, though quiet de- meanor of the white men, and the constant vigilance and arined preparations which they maintained ; and Rose, if he really still har- bored his knavish designs, must have per- ceived that they were suspected, and, if at- parting wf tb tbe Crows 367 tempted to be carried into eflfect, might bring ruin on his own head. The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Hunt proposed to resume his journeying. He took a ceremonious leave of the Crow chieftain, and his vagabond warriors, and according to previous arrangements, consigned to their cherishing friendship and fraternal adoption their worthy confederate Rose, who, having figured among the water pirates of the Missis- sippi, was well fitted to rise to distinction among the land pirates of the Rocky Moun- tains. It is proper to add, that the ruffian was well received among the tribe, and appeared to be perfectly satisfied with the compromise he had made ; feeling much more at his ease among savages than among white men. It is outcasts from civilization, fugitives from justice, and heartless desperadoes of this kind who sow the seeds of enmity and bitterness among the un- fortunate tribes of the frontier. There is no enemy so implacable against a country or a community as one of its own people who has rendered himself an alien by his crimes. Right glad to be delivered from this treacher- ous companion, Mr. Hunt pursued his course along the skirts of the mountain, in a southern direction, seeking for some practicable defile «/i I 'i ll< 376 B0toria solitary race, who keep in the most retired parts of the mountains, lurking like gnomes in caverns and clefts of the rocks, and subsist- ing in a great measure on the roots of the earth. Sometimes, in passing through a solitary moun- tain valley, the traveller comes perchance upon the bleeding carcass of a deer or buffalo that has just been slain. He looks round in vain for the hunter ; the whole landscape is lifeless and deserted ; at length he perceives a thread of smoke, curling up from among the crags and cliffs, and scrambling to the place, finds some forlorn and skulking brood of Diggers, terrified at being discovered. The Shoshonies, however, who, as has been observed, have still ' * horse to ride and weapon to wear," are somewhat bolder in their spirit, and more open and wide in their wanderings. In the autumn, when salmon disappear from the rivers, and hunger begins to pinch, they even venture down in their ancient hunting grounds, to make a foray among the buffaloes. In this perilous enterprise they are occasionally joined by the Flatheads, the persecutions of the Blackfeet having produced a close alliance and co-operation between these luckless and maltreated tribes. Still, notwithstanding their united force, every step they take within the debatable ground is taken in fear and trem- Dread of tbe JSlaclifeet 377 bling, and with the utmost precaution ; and an Indian trader assures us that he has seen at least five hundred of them, armed and equipped for action, and keeping watch upon the hill- tops, while about fifty were hunting in the prairie. Their excursions are brief and hur- ried ; as soon as they have collected and jerked sufficient buffalo meat for winter provisions, they pack their horses, abandon the dangerous hunting grounds, and hasten back to the mountains, happy if they have not the terrible Blackfeet rattling after them. Such a confederate band of Shoshonies and Flatheads was the one met by our travellers. It was bound on a visit to the Arrapahoes, a tribe inhabiting the banks of the Nebraska. They were armed to the best of their scanty means, and some of the Shoshonies had buck- lers of buffalo hide, adorned with feathers and leathern fringes, and which have a charmed virtue in their eyes, from having been prepared, with mystic ceremonies, by their conjurers. In company with this wandering band our travellers proceeded all day. In the evening they encamped near to each other in a defile of the mountains, on the borders of a stream running north, and falling into Bighorn River. In the vicinity of the camp, they found goose- berries, strawberries, and currants, in great HI ■ i" 378 BdtorU M i; ^& abundance. The defile bore traces of having been a throughfare for countless herds of buf- faloes, though not one was to be seen. The hunters succeeded in killing an elk and several black-tailed deer. They were now in the bosom of the second Bighorn ridge, with another lofty and snow- crowned mountain full in view to the west. Fifteen miles of western course brought them, on the following day, down into an intervening plain, well stocked with buflfalo. Here the Snakes and Flatheads joined with the white hunters in a successful hunt, that soon filled the camp with provisions. On the morning of the 9th of September, the travellers parted company with their Indian friends, and continued on their course to the west. A march of thirty uiiles brought them, in the evening, to the banks of a rapid and beautifully clear stream about a hundred yards wide. It is the north fork or branch of the Bighorn River, but bears its peculiar name of the Wind River, from being subject in the winter seasons to a continued blast which sweeps its banks and prevents the snow from lying on them. This blast is said to be caused by a narrow gap or funnel in the mountains, through which the river forces its way between perpendicular precipices, resembling cut rocks. Zbc TIQItnd 'River 379 This river gives its name to a whole range of mountains consisting of three parallel chains, eighty miles in length, and about twenty or twenty-five broad. One of its peaks is proba- bly fifteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, being one of the highest of the Rocky Sierra. These mountains give rise, not merely to the Wind or Bighorn River, but to several branches of the Yellowstone and the Missouri on the east, and of the Columbia and Colorado on the west ; thus di v iding the sources of these mighty streams. For five succeeding days, Mr. Hunt and his party continued up the course of the Wind River, to the distance of about eighty miles, crossing and recrossing it, according to its windings, and the nature of its banks ; some- times passing through valleys, at other times scrambling over rocks and hills. The country in general was destitute of trees, but they passed through groves of worm- wood, eight and ten feet in height, which they used occa- sionally for fuel, and they met with large quan- tities of wild flax. • The mountains were destitute of game ; they came in sight of two grizzly bears, but could not get near enough for a shot ; provisions, therefore, begaii to be scanty. They saw large flights of the k^ind of thrush commonly called , ! 38o Bdtotia the robin, and many smaller birds of migncory species ; but the hills in general appeared lonely and with few signs of animal life. On the evening of the 14th September, they encamped on the forks of the Wind or Bighorn River. The largest of these forks came from the range of Wind River Mountains. The hunters, who served as guides to the party in this part of their route, had assured Mr. Hunt that, by following up Wind River, and crossing a single mountain ridge, he would come upon the head-waters of the Columbia. This scarcity of game, however, which already had been felt to a pinching degree, and which threatened them with famine among the sterile heights which laj?- before them, admonished them to change their course. It was deter- mined, therefore, to make for a stream, which they were informed passed the neighboring mountains, to the south of west, on the grassy banks of which it was probable they would meet with buffalo. Accordingly, about three o'clock on the following day, meeting with a beaten Indian road which led in the proper direction, they struck into it, turning their backs upon Wind River. In the course of the day, they came to a height that commanded an almost boundless prospect. Here one of the guides paused, and, f itdt Xan5marli0 of tbe Columbia 381 after considering the vast landscape attentively, pointed to three mountain peaks glistening with snow, which rose, he said, above a fork of Columbia River. They were hailed by the travellers with that joy with which a beacon on a sea-shore is hailed by mariners after a long and dangerous voyage. It is true there was many a weary league to be traversed before they should reach these landmarks, for, allow- ing for their evident height and the extreme transparency of the atmosphere, they could not be much less than a hundred miles distant. Kven after reaching them, there would yet re- main hundreds of miles of their journey to be accomplished. All these matters were forgotten in the joy at seeing the first landmarks of the Columbia, that river which formed the bourne of the expedition. These remarkable peaks were known as the Tetons ; as guiding points for many days, to Mr. Hunt, he gave them the names of the Pilot Knobs. The travellers continued their course to the south of west for about forty miles, through a region so elevated that patches of snow lay on the highest summits and on the northern de- clivities. At length they came to the desired stream, the object of their search, the waters of which flowed to the west. It was, in fact, a branch of the Colorado, which falls into the 1 1 1 I 382 Bdtoria m m ! \ !i Gulf of California, and had received from the hunters the name of Spanish River, from in- formation given by the Indians that Spaniards resided upon its lower waters. The aspect of this river and its vicinity was cheering to the way-worn and hungry travellers. Its banks were green, and there were grassy valleys running from it in various directions, into the heart of the rugged mountains, with herds of bufifalo quietly grazing. The hunters sallied forth with keen alacrity, and soon re- turned laden with provisions. In this part of the mountains Mr. Hunt met with three different kinds of gooseberries. The common purple, on a low and very thorny bush ; a yellow kind, of an excellent flavor, growing on a stock free from thorns ; and a deep purple, of the size and taste of our winter grape, with a thorny stalk. There were also three kinds of currants, one very large and well tasted, of a purple color, and growing on a bush eight or nine feet high. Another of a yellow color, and of the size and taste of the large red currant, the bush four or five feet high ; and the third a beautiful scarlet, resem- bling the strawberry in sweetness, though rather insipid, and growing on a low bush. On the 17th they continued down the course of the river, making fifteen miles to the south- f)untfn0 and 'Keeting 383 west. The river abounded with geese and ducks, and there were signs of its being in- habited by beaver and otters ; indeed, they were now approaching regions where these animals, the great objects of the fur trade, are said to abound. They encamped for the night oppo- site the end of a mountain in the west, which was probably the last chain of the Rocky Mountains. On the following morning they abandoned the main course of the Spanish River, and taking a northwest direction for eight miles, came upon one of its little tribu- taries, issuing out of the bosom of the moun- tains, and running through green meadows, yielding pasturage to herds of buffalo. As these were probably the last of that animal they would meet with, they encamped on the grassy banks of the river, determined to spend several days in hunting, so as to be able to jerk sufficient meat to supply them until they should reach the waters of the Columbia, where they trusted to find fish enough for their support. A little repose, too, was necessary for both men and horses, after their rugged and incessant marching ; having, in the course of the last seventeen days, traversed two hundred and sixty miles of rough, and in many parts sterile, mountain country. if i M I] m Cbaptcrfff. A Plentiful Hunting Camp — Shoshonie Hunters — Hoback's River — Mad River — Encampment Near the Pilot Knobs — Preparations for a Perilous Voy- age. k FIVE days were passed by Mr. Hunt and his companions in the fresh meadows watered by the bright little mountain stream. The hunters made great havoc among the buffaloes, and brought in quanti- ties of meat ; the voyageurs busied themselves about the fires, roasting and stewing ^or present purposes, or drying provisions for the journey ; the pack-horses, eased of their burdens, rolled on the grass, or grazed at large about the ample pastures ; those of the party who had no call upon their services, indulged in the luxury of perfect relaxation, and the camp presented a picture of rude feasting and revelry, of mingled bustle and repose, characteristic of a halt in a fine hunting country. In the course B waib Aountain Scene 385 Hunters— tnent Near rilous Voy- Hunt and meadows mountain reat havoc n quanti- hemselves or present ; journey ; ms, rolled about the who had ed in the the camp d revelry, teristic of the course ^ of one of their excursions, some of the men- came in sight of a small party of Indians, who instantly fled in great apparent consternation. They immediately returned to camp with the intelligence, upon which Mr. Hunt and four others flung themselves upon their horses, and sallied forth to reconnoitre. After riding for about eight miles, they came upon a wild mountain scene. A lonely green valley stretched before them, surrounded by rugged heights. A herd of buffalo were careering madly through it, with a troop of savage horsemen in full chase, plying them with their bows and arrows. The appearance of Mr. Hunt and his compan- ions put an abrupt end to the hunt ; the buffalo scuttled off in one direction, while the Indians plied their lashes and galloped off in another, as fast as their steeds could carry them. Mr. Hunt gave chase ; there was a sharp scamper, though of short continuance. Two > oung In- dians, who were indifferently mounted, were soon overtaken. They were terribly frightened, and evidently gave themselves up for lost. By degrees their fears were allayed by kind treatment ; but they continued to regard the strangers with a mixture of awe and wonder, for it was the first time in their lives they had ever seen a white man. They belonged to a party of Snakes who had vol. i.—as 386 B0toria come across the mountains on their autumnal hunting excursion to provide buffalo meat for the winter. Being persuaded of the peaceable in- tentions of Mr. Hunt and his companions, they willingly conducted them to their camp. It was pitched in a narrow valley on the margin of a stream. The tents were of dressed skins, some of them fantastically painted ; with horses graz- ing about them. The approach of the party caused a transient alarm in the camp, for these poor Indians were ever on the look-out for cruel foes. No sooner, however, did they recognize the garb and complexion of their visitors, than their apprehensions were changed into joy ; for some of them had dealt with white men, and knew them to be friendly, and to abound with articles of singular value. They welcomed them, therefore, to their tents, set food before them ; and entertained them to the best of their power. They had been successful in their hunt, and their camp was full of jerked buffalo meat, all of the choicest kind, and extremely fat. Mr. Hunt purchased enough of them, in addition to what had been killed and cured by his own hunters, to load all the horses excepting those reserved for the partners and the wife of Pierre Dorion. He found, also, a few beaver skins in camp, for which he paid liberally, as an induce- ment to them to hunt for more ; informing 1>caD«'lKIlater0 of tbe Columbia 387 them that some of his party intended to live among the mountains, and trade with the native hunters for their peltries. The poor Snakes soon comprehended the advantages thus held out to them, and promised to exert themselves to procure a quantity of beaver skins for future traffic. Being now well supplied with provisions, Mr. Hunt broke up his encampment on the 24th of September, and continued on to the west. A march of fifteen miles, over a moun- tain ridge, brought them to a stream about fifty feet in width, which Iloback, one of their guides, who had trapped about the neighbor- hood when in the service of Mr. Henry, re- cognized for one of the head-waters of the Columbia. The travellers hailed it with de- light, as the first stream they had encountered tending toward their point of destination. They kept along it for two days, during which, from the contribution of many rills and brooks, it gradually swelled into a small river. As it meandered among rocks and precipices, they were frequently obliged to ford it, and such was its rapidity, that the men were often in danger of being swept away. Sometimes the banks advanced so close upon the river, that they were obliged to scramble up and down their rugged promontories, or to skirt along their 388 Bdtoria til V H bases where there was scarce a foothold. Their horses had dangerous falls in some of these passes. One of them rolled, with his load, nearly two hundred feet down hill into the river, but without receiving any injury. At length they emerged from these stupendous defiles, and continued for several miles along the bank of Hoback's River, through one of the stem mountain valleys. Here it was joined by a river of greater magnitude and swifter current, and their united waters swept off through the valley in one impetuous stream, which, from its rapidity and turbulence, had received the name of the Mad River. At the confluence of these streams the travellers en- camped. An important point in their arduous journey had been attained. A few miles from their camp rose the three vast snowy peaks called the Tetons, or the Pilot Knobs, the great land-marks of the Columbia, by which they had shaped their course through this mountain wilderness. By their feet flowed the rapid current of Mad River, a stream ample enough to admit of the navigation of canoes, and down which they might possibly be able to steer their course to the main body of the Columbia. The Canadian vqyageurs rejoiced at the idea of once more launching themselves upon their favorite element ; of exchanging pleaeing Bnticipationa 389 their horses for canoes, and of gliding down the bosom of rivers, instead of scrambling over the backs of the mountains. Others of the party, also, inexperienced in this kind of travelling, considered their toils and troubles as drawing to a close. They had conquered the chief difficulties of this great rocky barrier, and now flattered themselves with the hope of any easy downward course for the rest of their journey. Little did they dream of the hard- ships and perils by land and water, which were yet to be encountered in the frightful wilder- ness that intervened between them and the shores of the Pacific ! END OF VOLUME I.