KINGS OF 
 
 MISSOURI 
 
 HUGH PENDEXTER 
 
KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
"Why don't you come to help me in ?" 
 
KINGS 
 OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 HUGH PENDEXTER 
 
 <iAuthor of 
 Red Belts, Gentlemen of the North, etc. 
 
 Illustrated by 
 KENNETH M. BALLANTYNE 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS 
 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright 1920 
 The Ridgway Compahy 
 
 Copyright 1921 
 The Bobbs-Merbill Company 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
 
 BOOK MANUFACTURERS 
 
 BROOKLYN, N. Y. 
 

 <](,! 
 
 
 P3<J3 
 
 
 JhJ. 
 
 To 
 
 
 That Good Friend of Mine 
 
 HELEN 
 
 
 My Dear Wife 
 
 
 This Book Is Affectionately 
 
 Dedicated 
 
 M528460 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I Sweethearts and Knives 1 
 
 II At Tilton's Place 24 
 
 III The Duel 54 
 
 IV The Battle of the Bullies .... 80 
 
 V PiNAUD, THE HUNTEE 108 
 
 VI Five Walks 137 
 
 VII Blackfoot and Crow 167 
 
 VIII Along the River Trail 191 
 
 IX In the Medicine Lodge 223 
 
 X At Fort Union 242 
 
 XI The Deschamps Clan 262 
 
 XII Medicine For the Lance 289 
 
 XIII Phinny Comes and Goes 314 
 
 XIV Beaver! Beaver! 335 
 
 XV Susette in the Garden 355 
 
KINGS OF THE 
 MISSOURI 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 
 
 ST. LOUIS with its strange hodge-podge of 
 humanity bustled feverishly under the late 
 April sun. The permanent inhabitants were 
 respectable and progressive, yet the first impres- 
 sion a stranger was apt to receive was an atmos- 
 phere of recklessness, if not lawlessness. This 
 because the city with its seven thousand people 
 was the center of the fur trade and the temporary 
 haven for desperate characters from east of the 
 Mississippi. Located a scant score of miles below 
 the mouth of the Missouri — the white man's first 
 path to the Rockies and the key to the trans-Mis- 
 sissippian territory — the city yielded nothing to 
 
 I 
 
2 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Montreal as a jumping-off place for adventures 
 of all sorts. 
 
 The explorations of Major Zebulon Pike, Cap- 
 tains Lewis and Clark, and Major Stephen H. 
 Long, were from one to two decades old on this 
 particular April day, and yet the people thus far 
 had profited but scantily from the printed reports. 
 There was soon coming a time when a mighty 
 host, impelled by a national impulse to expand, 
 would eagerly consult these sleeping authorities. 
 But St. Louis in 183 1 thought and talked of furs, 
 not of peopling a continent. In the streets could 
 be seen the lounging mountain men employed by 
 the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, formed by 
 General William H. Ashley in 1822. The season 
 before these same men, clad in greasy and worn 
 garments of buckskin and buffalo hide, had 
 brought back from the mountains a hundred 
 thousand dollars' worth of beaver. Men of the 
 American Fur Company, the strongest fur organ- 
 ization on the continent with the exception of the 
 Hudson's Bay, were kept at their permanent posts 
 throughout the valley of the Missouri and did not 
 enjoy the license of leave exhibited by Ashley's 
 old men. 
 
 Traders also were returning from Santa Fe 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 3 
 
 with huge profits. Trade with the Southwest, 
 fur-harvesting in the West and Northwest, was 
 the order of the day. There seems to be no record 
 of either trader or trapper seeking weaUh beneath 
 the soil. The gold strikes in California, Colo- 
 rado, Idaho and Montana, were marching down 
 the years but had not yet arrived. Fur was the 
 king of the western country and beaver was the 
 most sought of all fur-bearing animals. Beaver 
 was to continue holding this eminence until 1833 
 when John Jacob Astor in London would write to 
 his associates in the great A. F. C. — 
 
 *Tt appears they make hats of silk in place of 
 beaver." 
 
 But beaver was readily selling from seven to 
 eight dollars a pound this April day, and Ralph 
 Lander hurrying to his work in the A. F. C. store 
 never dreamed of living to see the price reduced. 
 In 1 83 1 there was every reason to believe the 
 price must go up as the supply dwindled. The 
 Rocky Mountain Fur Company specialized in 
 beaver. The Hudson^s Bay Company, cut off 
 from a profitable trade in robes because of port- 
 age charges, greedily took all it could get. The 
 A. F. C. on the Missouri and its tributaries traded 
 for all pelts, but made a drive for the dam-build- 
 
4 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 ers. So neither Ralph Lander nor any other man 
 in the year 1831 could know what a blow inven- 
 tive genius was to deal the beaver trade two years 
 hence. 
 
 Lander knew changes must take place, but he 
 could vision nothing to prevent him from becom- 
 ing a mountain man, a king of the Missouri. His 
 ideal was Ashley, the implacable rival of the A. F. 
 C. It was Ashley who brought romance to the 
 fur trade and set a new pace by doing away with 
 fixed posts and by sending large bodies of trap- 
 pers into the beaver country to trap and trade. 
 With Ashley had been associated such men as 
 William L. and Milton Sublette, whose grand- 
 father is credited with slaying Tecumseh at the 
 battle of the Thames, James P. Beckwourth and 
 James Bridger. The A. F. C, clinging to the 
 traditions and practises of the British companies, 
 was hard put to meet the growing opposition of 
 these celebrated mountain men. Diluted alcohol 
 was being exchanged — contrary to law of the 
 country — for buffalo robes at the rate of a pint 
 for a robe. 
 
 Ashley^s tactics, followed by his successors, did 
 not pivot on the efficiency of the Indian. His 
 own trappers caught the furs. While the A. F. 
 C. could easily retain a monopoly of the robe 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 5 
 
 trade it found itself worried because of the rich 
 packs taken out of the country by the opposition. 
 
 Both the A. F. C. and the opposition were one 
 in not desiring immigration. The opposition, 
 however, was not concerned with any problems of 
 placating and conserving the Indian. One 
 depended for trade on the good-will and efforts 
 of the Indian, the other went in and secured pelts 
 despite the Indian. 
 
 Lander was not given to analysis. He knew 
 the steamboat had come to remain a fixture and 
 that the days of the flatboat were over. He knew 
 the keelboat still persisted as a great factor in the 
 upper Missouri trade, but he did not realize it 
 would have followed the flatboat long before his 
 day had not the flimsy structure of the steam craft 
 made steamboat travel hazardous. He worked 
 for the inexorable A. F. C, a huge and smoothly 
 running machine, and he admired the privateer- 
 ing of Ashley's men. He credited the A. F. C. 
 with eliminating British influence in the Indian 
 country. He should have given the credit to the 
 advent of the American steamboat What neither 
 State, Church, nor Army could effect had been 
 brought about by superstition. The Indian had 
 decided that those who used a "fire canoe'* must 
 be more mighty than those who did not. 
 
6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 With epochal changes shaping about him Lan- 
 der's thoughts remained those of youth in spring- 
 time. The most important thing in the world for 
 him to think about was little Susette Parker, only 
 child of gruff "Hurry-Up" Parker, a valuable cog 
 in the A. F. C/s St. Louis machinery. The girl 
 had been Lander's inspiration and undoing. She 
 had filled him with ambitions and had robbed 
 him of the power to leave the town and join a 
 mountain expedition and prove his worth. In- 
 stead of carving out the future her love must 
 demand, he remained slave to the present and 
 continued packing goods for men who were to 
 live the life. 
 
 When the opposition came back from the 
 mountains and the A. F. C. headquarters were 
 blue with profanely expressed rage, Lander 
 secretly rejoiced at their good fortune and felt 
 the thrill of youth, lusting for the unusual. Even 
 the pack-mules, skinned from withers to tail from 
 carrying two hundred pounds for two thousand 
 miles, urged him to follow their back trail. 
 Whenever an express came down from Fort 
 Union — best built west of the Mississippi with 
 the possible exception of Bent's on the Arkansas 
 ' — and told of Indian troubles, especially of the 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 7 
 
 undying hatred of the Blackfeet for the whites, 
 he burned to take a pack and gun and steal into 
 the hostile country and try his luck. 
 
 When self-respect reproached him for his lack 
 of purpose he defended himself by declaring that 
 no sane man would leave a Susette when she 
 urged him to stay. Susette was spoiled into ask- 
 ing for everything she wanted. She wanted Lan- 
 der and would not listen to his trying his luck in 
 the Indian country. This eased his conscience, 
 although reason told him he might lose her for all 
 time because he was not strong enough to lose 
 her for a season or two. 
 
 Sometimes the fantastic optimism of young 
 years prompted him to scheme immediate mar- 
 riage, to be followed by venturing into the land 
 of fear and fable. His morning greeting from 
 Hurry-Up Parker always quickly dispelled such 
 nonsense. Parker was hard-headed and damn- 
 ably practical. The caste of the A. F. C. was in 
 his blood; he would never give his girl to an 
 engage. He might marry an Indian woman him- 
 self, if he were posted up-country, but no hired 
 hand, a mere laborer, should dare raise his head 
 high enough to glimpse Susette's pert eyes. 
 
 Now that the young people's intimacy had 
 
8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 progressed to the exchange of love vows Lander 
 often felt uncomfortable when he paused to won- 
 der what the stern parent would say and do, once 
 he learned the truth. So the affair had made him 
 sly and secretive. His work included the running 
 of many errands and frequently he was sent to the 
 Parker home on Pine Street. Other times he 
 made errands there when he knew Parker was 
 not about. Only Susette and himself were in the 
 secret, and yet there was one man in the store 
 who had taken to staring at him laughingly every 
 time he came back from an errand. 
 
 "IVe got to strike out," he groaned half aloud 
 as he slowed his steps on nearing the big ware- 
 house and store. "That Malcom Phinny looks 
 too knowing. He'll be telling things before 
 Susette and I are ready. I must get up-river and 
 work up to some position. No more putting off. 
 I must." 
 
 He had said this before. He was very serious 
 now, and yet the sight of a familiar figure 
 approaching made him smile and forget love and 
 old Parker. It was Jim Bridger, head partner 
 now in the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. He 
 stood better than six feet, raw-boned and straight 
 and of powerful frame. His brown hair was ver}^ 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 9 
 
 thick and worn to his shoulders, and his gray eyes 
 were forever taking inventories as he swung his 
 head from side to side. Lander smiled at recol- 
 lecting some tall stories Bridger was fond of 
 telling. 
 
 "Getting ready to go out, Mister Bridger?" 
 politely asked Lander as Bridger shot him a sharp 
 glance and nodded curtly. 
 
 "Lander of the A. F. C? I remember you. 
 Your people would mighty well like to put a 
 snag in my way." 
 
 "I wouldn't. I always wish you luck," was the 
 honest reply. 
 
 Bridger smiled good-naturedly. 
 
 "Then I don't mind saying we're gitting away 
 almost at once. An' a young, strapping feller 
 like you oughter be doing something better'n 
 sticking round this place an' standing behind a 
 counter. Why don't you git Parker to send you 
 up-country where you can show your mettle ?" 
 
 Lander was almost inclined to resent the tone 
 and question, for Bridger was only twenty-seven 
 years old and not much his senior. Bridger, how- 
 ever, spoke as a man of vast experience talking to 
 a child. 
 
10 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "I'd mighty well like to see that Yellowstone 
 country you talk about," said Lander. 
 
 "Fools round here think I'm making it up/* 
 snorted Bridger. "But I've seen all I've told 
 about. Hot water spouting seventy feet high. 
 Springs of water so hot you can cook meat in 'em. 
 An' a cave where the Injuns git their vermilion." 
 
 Lander believed he was evening up the moun- 
 taineer's air of superiority, and he solemnly 
 repeated : 
 
 "I'd mighty well like to see those sights." 
 
 "You never will by sticking round here." 
 
 And with a jerk of his head the discoverer of 
 Bridger's Pass, of South Pass and the Great Salt 
 Lake, passed on his way. 
 
 Lander resumed his smile, then upbraided him- 
 self. He never would possess the wealth at twen- 
 ty-seven that Bridger did. And no number of 
 years could bring him Bridger's influence and 
 power. The man might tell some whopping big 
 lies about the Yellowstone country, but the fact 
 remained that he had more intimate knowledge 
 about the Rocky Mountains than any man of his 
 day. As a guide and reader of signs he was 
 superb. He was held in high esteem by the In- 
 dians. Best of all he had worked up from 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES ii 
 
 extreme poverty. All St. Lowis knew how he and 
 his sister were left orphans when he was but 
 ten years old, and how at that tender age he had 
 bought a ferryboat and supported the two. 
 
 "If he wanted to marry a girl like Susette I 
 reckon Hurry-Up Parker would feel mighty 
 proud/* gloomily concluded Lander. 
 
 Then he became objective and hastily studied 
 the big storehouse. He was late and Hurry-Up 
 Parker would never forgive tardiness. But from 
 what Susette had said the evening before he knew 
 Parker was entertaining the Fort Union bour- 
 geois, and this would mean an all-night affair 
 with many drinks. Therefore Parker would not 
 show up until late afternoon. 
 
 He sidled up to the big doorway and ducked in. 
 The first man he saw was Parker, his face 
 screwed up most savagely. Lander wondered 
 how so vicious-looking a man could be the father 
 of the perfect Susette. He felt deeply embar- 
 rassed and not a little uneasy as Parker continued 
 glaring at him over a bale of goods. 
 
 Hurrying to the end of the store, where lay his 
 tasks, he met Malcom Phinny, a heavily built, 
 dark-faced fellow, handsome in an Indian sort of 
 a way and several years his senior. Phinny had 
 
12 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 worked a season at Cabanne*s Post and had 
 brought down the trade of the Pawnees on the 
 Loup Fork of the Platte. He was working for 
 promotion and was scheduled to get it this season. 
 He gave himself airs accordingly and, having wit- 
 nessed Lander's tardy arrival and the boss' irrita- 
 tion, he took pains to raise his voice to inform: 
 
 "Didn't know as you'd be here, Lander, so I 
 finished sorting out the beads and small stuff for 
 you." 
 
 "Thanks for nothing," growled Lander. 
 
 "What did you do to make a night of it?" 
 chuckled Phinny. 
 
 "Oh, shut up!" 
 
 Phinny's dark face flushed although he con- 
 tinued to smile. 
 
 "I beg your pardon. I should not question my 
 betters. After the wedding and after you've been 
 taken in partner, I hope you'll find room for me 
 somewhere." 
 
 Lander turned in fury, then rocked back on his 
 heels to find himself confronting Parker. The 
 latter's unexpected appearance from behind a pile 
 of blankets also had a strong effect on Phinny, 
 who glided toward the other end of the store. 
 
 "What did he mean about weddings and being 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 13 
 
 partner?" demanded Parker, his eyes two black 
 streaks between his lowered lids. 
 
 "Lord, sir! I don't know. Just some of his 
 beastly nonsense," replied Lander. 
 
 "But if nonsense why should it make you mad? 
 You planning to get married ?" 
 
 "Good land — no, sir ! That is — Vm in no posi- 
 tion to get married." 
 
 "I should sa)^ not! You were up to my house 
 yesterday ?" 
 
 "I — I was so bold as to drop in during the 
 evening," faltered Lander. 
 
 "You were so bold, eh? Remember this — 
 don't be so bold again. When I want you there 
 ril make an errand and send some one else. You 
 remember you're nothing but a scrub of hired 
 help, an engage, a man who does the odds and 
 ends. Out of hours your range is down on the 
 water-front until you've shown you've got some 
 guts. You come swelling in here half an hour 
 late as if you was one of the company. That 
 won't go with Hurry-Up Parker again. Now git 
 your nose to your work and keep it there.'* 
 
 He was Susette's father. Lander believed 
 Susette loved him. And her father could talk to 
 him like this! He turned red, then white, and 
 
14 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 assailed his task to keep his thoughts from mur- 
 der. He could feel Parker's hard eyes boring into 
 the nape of his neck. It seemed as if he worked 
 an hour with the boss' gaze malignantly following 
 his every move. 
 
 At last he heard Parker's steps receding. He 
 twisted his head and caught a glimpse of Phinny, 
 half doubled with merriment behind a pyramid of 
 whisky casks. Lander's heart ached with hate of 
 the man. Parker had some excuse — he had been 
 drinking all night and he was the father of the 
 incomparable Susette. It was his nasty way to be 
 always nagging the men. He gloried in his nick- 
 name. But Phinny was free to be hated. He was 
 ever trying to lift himself by stepping on the 
 necks of his mates. Many of the men were con- 
 vinced he carried tales to Parker. 
 
 "What made him think I was up at the house 
 last evening?" Lander asked himself as he 
 slowed up his w^ork and rested a hand on a trade- 
 ax and was tempted to hurl it at the grinning 
 face. "Phinny knew somehow that I was there 
 and he let it drop this morning. Curse him ! He's 
 got all the ways of a Red River half-breed." 
 
 For the rest of the morning Phinny kept out of 
 his way. When it was near the noon hour Lan- 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 15 
 
 der saw the men near the "door bustling to one 
 side, bowing and scraping in an extravagant man- 
 ner. Twice before Susette had come to the store, 
 and her arrival had been greeted by just such 
 clumsy attempts to do homage to the pretty 
 daughter of a domineering boss. Ordinarily Lan- 
 der would have marked it a red-letter day and 
 been filled with joy; now he glanced uneasily 
 toward the door marked "Office" and prayed 
 Parker might not emerge. 
 
 Then came a flutter of youth and beauty and 
 Miss Susette was standing inside the door, her 
 skirts pulled aside to escape contamination from 
 a small mountain of whisky casks destined to be 
 smuggled by Fort Leavenworth for the Sioux and 
 Assiniboin trade. Lander hoped she would pass 
 into the office. 
 
 She spied him and with a little cry of discovery 
 came tripping down the lane formed by the 
 heaped-up trade goods and supplies. 
 
 "Why didn't you come to help me in?'' she 
 sternly rebuked. "Two of the men had to lift me 
 up." 
 
 "Not a hard job for one man," he said, grin- 
 ning ruefully at her slight, dainty figure and 
 again marveling how the old bear could be her 
 
i6 KIN,GS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 father. "If you want to see your father he is in 
 the office." 
 
 "I don't want to see him," she coolly informed. 
 "I saw him this morning and he was very cross. 
 Can't you come outside where we can talk ? This 
 place smells so of things." 
 
 "Susette, I don't dare budge. I was late. 
 Your father mounted me like a wildcat. I can't 
 even talk in here. If you'll walk down by Tra- 
 deau's house at eight o'clock this evening I'll have 
 much to tell you." 
 
 "Walk by Jean Tradeau's house?" she 
 repeated, much puzzled. "Why not see me at my 
 house?" 
 
 "I'll tell you this evening." 
 
 "But tell me now!" and a maternal glitter 
 quickened her gaze. 
 
 "It's like this " 
 
 He halted and cast an apprehensive glance over 
 his shoulder. Phinny's voice was loudly 
 informing : 
 
 "She was here just a minute ago, Mister Par- 
 ker. I thought she was right behind me when I 
 announced her. Now she's gone. No, there she 
 is chatting with Lander." 
 
 Lander felt his heart slipping. To get the best 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 17^ 
 
 of physical fear was easy enough; one had only 
 to buckle down and come to grips with the cause. 
 But the anticipation of being put to shame before 
 the girl and by her father fairly sickened him. 
 Susette, not understanding in the least, was rather 
 provoked that her father should intrude on the 
 scene. She affected not to see him. 
 
 Parker bore down upon them and unceremoni- 
 ously seized the girl by the arm and without a 
 word led her to the door. 
 
 "But, papa, I was talking with Mr. Lander,** 
 she indignantly protested. 
 
 Ignoring her, Parker called out to a servant 
 and a frightened colored woman bobbed her head 
 in the door, her lips broadly smiling, her eyes 
 wdde with fear. 
 
 "You, Maime," hoarsely growled Parker. "If 
 your mistress ever comes here again without my 
 telling her to come Fll sell you down-river.'* 
 
 With that he lifted the vision in lace and rib- 
 bons down from the high door and turned back 
 to speak with Lander. 
 
 Lander had suffered the worst and now stared 
 at his employer sullenly. Parker halted a few 
 feet from him and began : 
 
 "So it*s true, eh ? I couldn't believe it at first. 
 
i8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 You're chasing my little gal, eh? I thought it 
 
 was a lie when he told me " 
 
 "Meaning when that puppy of a Phinny told 
 you," hotly broke in Lander. "I haven't chased 
 your girl. I've known Miss Susette ever since I 
 came to work here two years ago. You've sent 
 me to the house every few days. You knew we 
 met and talked." 
 
 "Well, you won't call again. Now git out of 
 here. You're through. You're not only through, 
 but the A. F. C. will see you don't git any work in 
 St. Louis, except it's nigger's work on the levee." 
 
 "The A. F. C. may stop me getting work, per- 
 haps. I won't call at your house till you ask me," 
 replied Lander, slipping on his coat and picking 
 up his hat. 
 
 "I'll ask you to call when the Missouri flows 
 from the Mississip' into the Rocky Mountains. 
 Git your pay at the office now. I don't want 
 you coming in here again." 
 
 "God forbid!" exclaimed Lander, hastening 
 blindly into the office. 
 
 When his mind cleared Lander found himself 
 down by the old Chouteau Pond. From the time 
 he left Parker he could remember nothing of hav- 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 19 
 
 ing procured his pay although he found it in his 
 pocket and right to a penny. He had no recol- 
 lection of where he had walked or by what route 
 he had come to the pond. He could recall but 
 one thing, and that was Phinny^s hoarse bleat of 
 derision as he left the storehouse. 
 
 "I have made the breath come hard trying to 
 catch you," spoke up a gentle voice at his elbow. 
 
 He turned and his face lighted as he beheld the 
 frail figure of a man with snow-white hair and 
 white mustaches. It was Etienne Clair, an old 
 and very eccentric Frenchman who roomed near 
 him on upper Market Street. 
 
 "I'm in a devil of a mess, Papa Clair," he 
 groaned, feeling as free to crave sympathy as if 
 the ancient had been a woman. 
 
 "I followed you many streets. I thought you 
 mad. The devil's to pay? Then there must be 
 work for the knife. We will fix it together!" 
 cried Clair, speaking his English with scarcely a 
 trace of accent. 'T have lived long on the river 
 and at the foot of the river. I have seen many 
 troubles eased with the knife. But never have I 
 been so glad " 
 
 "The knife will hardly do in this case," 
 morosely broke in Lander. 
 
20 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Not do?" squealed the Frenchman, his arms 
 and hands violently repudiating such heresy. 
 "Have I not taught you the etiquette of the knife? 
 Is there a young blood in St. Louis, in New Or- 
 leans, who knows it better ? And behold, you say 
 it will not doT' 
 
 "Papa Clair, your heart is as white as your 
 hair. I've quit the A. F. C. Made to quit '* 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 "Hurry-Up Parker discharged me without a 
 second's notice." 
 
 "Descendant of a pig ! He shall be insulted by 
 you and challenge you. I will appear for you. 
 Weapons? Knives. He is not so old he can 
 hide behind his age and refuse to meet you." 
 
 "Impossible! Even if I wanted to fight him 
 I couldn't." 
 
 "Holy blue! I — I do not understand, M'sieu 
 Lander. I, Etienne Clair, walk in darkness, 
 m'sieu. I have taught you the knife. I have 
 made for it the scabbard for you to wear inside 
 your boot. Knowing what I have taught you, 
 wearing the blade I gave you, you can look the 
 devil in the face and tell him to go home or have 
 his tail cut off. And behold! You say you can 
 not demand your safety from a low-down Indian- 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 21 
 
 trader. God's mercy ! M'sieu Lander, If you can 
 not explain " 
 
 "You don't understand!" choked Lander. 
 "The girl, his girl — Susette. But I mustn't men- 
 tion names." 
 
 "Now God is good! It is unsaid. No name 
 has been spoken!" cried the little Frenchman, 
 sweeping off his shabby fur cap and bowing low 
 to some Imaginary princess. "Your high heart 
 does you great honor. Your knife will sing the 
 sweeter when we find honest work for it to do. 
 The divinity of woman must always protect her 
 men from her lover." 
 
 "There are three things I must do at once," 
 mumbled Lander. "I must get work. Parker 
 says the A. F. C. will stop me getting work in St. 
 Louis unless I work on the levee." 
 
 "His father was a liar ! There is always much 
 work for honest men. Go on." 
 
 "I must settle my score with Phinny. He has 
 told tales and set Parker against me." 
 
 "Surely he shall be paid. The third ?" 
 
 "I must see — I mention no names." 
 
 "Of course. Etienne Clair understands." And 
 again the low bow till the cap brushed the dirt. 
 "It is delicate, eh? Now a message. Behold, I 
 
22 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 can carry a message with eyes that turn in and 
 see nothing, with a tongue to bring an answer 
 which my ears do not hear." 
 
 "I have arranged for meeting her unless she 
 is kept in the house." 
 
 "She shall not be kept in. I will enter from the 
 rear and release her and " 
 
 ''No, no! I believe she will meet me. The 
 hour is early as it was fixed before I knew what 
 was to happen to me. I shall walk by the scholar 
 Tradeau's house on Pine Street at eight o'clock." 
 
 "Most good! Then this scoundrel Phinny? 
 You can look for work to-morrow but you should 
 look for him to-night." 
 
 "I must find him to-night if I would sleep 
 to-night." 
 
 "Brave spirit! I will go with you when you 
 seek him." 
 
 Lander pondered for a moment, then said : 
 
 "Be in Tilton's drinking-place at nine. Wait 
 for me until ten. He goes there. IVe heard him 
 speak of the place often." 
 
 "A vile place. Scum and cutthroats. I will 
 wait for you." 
 
 They separated and Lander returned to his 
 
SWEETHEARTS AND KNIVES 23 
 
 room to brood and rage until the soft twilight 
 hour was come. 
 
 He dressed in his best but looked forlorn for a 
 lover as he made for the door and halted to stare 
 at a plain leather scabbard on the wall. He 
 slowly took it down. It was made to go inside his 
 boot, and from it he drew the Frenchman's gift 
 knife, a wonderfully effective weapon in the 
 hands of a master. It was ground to a razor's 
 edge, wath a weight and solidity of haft and a 
 length of blade that satisfied all exactions made 
 upon it. It was a queer thing for a lover to take 
 to his tryst, yet he pulled up his trousers leg and 
 slipped the scabbard inside his boot. 
 
 His act was partly prompted by his affection 
 for Papa Clair. He knew he was facing a crisis, 
 and somehow it strengthened him to have with 
 him a token from one he loved. Papa Clair had a 
 superstitious regard for his knives. Lander had 
 known him for two years and perhaps had ab- 
 sorbed some of his fancies. The old man had 
 made him master of the knife; only there was 
 none in all St. Louis outside the teacher who 
 suspected the fact. 
 
Chapter II 
 
 AT TILTON's place 
 
 npURNING In from Main to Pine Street 
 * Lander loitered along until he reached a 
 position under some garden bushes which rose 
 high above a fence and afforded a deep splotch 
 of shadow. Two houses below was the home of 
 Jean Baptiste Tradeau who tutored the youth of 
 St. Louis. The lover's gaze was directed 
 through the dusk over the way he had come, for 
 the Parker home was beyond the intersection of 
 Main Street, and it lacked fully fifteen minutes of 
 the hour. 
 
 When he halted by the bushes he had the street 
 to himself but now he heard steps and the low 
 murmur of voices from the direction of the Tra- 
 deau house. He gave these sounds no attention, 
 as he was now glimpsing a slim, erect figure 
 gowned in white, passing through the shaft of 
 light of a window up the street. His heart began 
 
 24 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 25 
 
 beating rapidly for he knew Stisette would be at 
 his side in another minute, and he tried to arrange 
 his words for a coherent explanation. She would 
 be deeply grieved and very indignant once she 
 learned what had happened. 
 
 Then the steps behind grew louder. Two men 
 iwere passing him and one of them laughed. Lan- 
 Her all but attracted their attention, for there was 
 no one who laughed like Malcom Phinny. 
 
 "It wa'n't any of my business, mebbe, and yet 
 I reckoned it was a bit, seeing as how you're the 
 boss,'' Phinny was saying, thus establishing the 
 identity of the second figure as that of Hurry-Up 
 Parker. "I'd known for a long time he was shin- 
 ing up to Miss Susette." 
 
 "You had ? Then why the devil didn't you tell 
 me?" snarled Parker. 
 
 Phinny's apologetic answer was lost on Lander 
 as the two were now drawing away from him. 
 He was mightily concerned over what would hap- 
 pen in the next few rods, when the two men 
 must meet the girl. Luck was badly against him. 
 Had he named any other meeting-place there 
 would not have been this interruption. 
 
 Slipping along the fence he took after the two 
 men for a bit, then shifted across the walk and 
 
26 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 stood behind a tree. Susette was now discerni- 
 ble in the gloaming, a little white patch against 
 the gathering darkness. She took the outside of 
 the walk and would have passed her father un- 
 recognized had not Phinny, falling behind his 
 employer a few steps, thrust out his head to peer 
 imprudently into her face. 
 
 "Why, Miss Susette! Ain't you lost?" he 
 laughingly greeted. 
 
 Parker halted and swung on his heel, 
 demanding, "You out walking alone ?" 
 
 "Good evening, papa," she pertly responded. 
 "It's perfectly proper to walk alone." 
 
 "It's also proper for you to walk with your 
 father. Take my arm." 
 
 "But I wanted to go down the street a bit. I've 
 been in the house for hours." 
 
 "Can't you get air enough on your own 
 porch ?" grumbled Parker. 
 
 "That's not exercise." 
 
 "Exercise, eh? Very well. Be back by nine. 
 Phinny, you keep my daughter company. There 
 are too many rough characters loose in this town 
 for a young girl to be out alone." 
 
 "Yes, sir. Glad to look after Miss Susette," 
 eagerly replied Phinny. 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 27 
 
 "You needn't put yourself out, Mr. Phinny," 
 shortly spoke up the girl. "If I can't stroll to the 
 end of the street without a guard I'll go back 
 home." 
 
 Although accustomed to having her own way 
 with her surly father there were times when he 
 enforced the law and when she knew it would be 
 useless to rebel. Such was the occasion now ; and 
 when he commanded "Back home it is then," she 
 dutifully took his arm and skipped along beside 
 him. When they passed through the next shaft 
 of light the disgruntled lover saw she was twist- 
 ing her head to look in his direction. On the 
 other side of Parker was Phinny, and he too was 
 glancing back. 
 
 For a moment he blamed her for not making 
 more of an effort to keep the appointment, then 
 remembered she knew nothing of his encounter 
 with her father. She'd console herself with think- 
 ing that the morrow would see him at the house. 
 
 "And I can't go to her," he groaned, moving 
 slowly away toward Third Street. "After all, I 
 reckon I'll have to send Papa Clair with a note. 
 That's it. He shall take a note and she can meet 
 me somewhere. But, that Phinny! One would 
 think he was a member of the family." 
 
28 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 An hour later Lander was at the Washington 
 Avenue store of Sublette and Company, or the 
 Rocky Mountain Fur Company, which was to 
 give the American Fur Company the strongest 
 opposition It had ever contended against. Ordi- 
 narily the store would have been closed, but Lan- 
 der hoped the work of getting up the new equip- 
 ment for the expedition about to start for the 
 mountains would necessitate its being kept open. 
 Nor was he disappointed, for although the store 
 was dark there was a glimmer of light at one end. 
 Making his way to the office entrance he looked 
 through the window and saw Jim Bridger busily 
 checking up some lists. 
 
 *'Come in if you have to," rumbled Bridger's 
 voice after Lander had rapped for the second 
 time. 
 
 Lander entered. Bridger peered up from his 
 work and greeted : 
 
 "What does a A\ F. C. man want here at this 
 hour?" 
 
 "Work," was the laconic reply. 
 
 "Through?" 
 
 "Dismissed." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Hurry-Up Parker." 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 29 
 
 "He's a good trader, a ripping good river and 
 mountain man. One of the kings of the Missouri. 
 What's his complaint against you?" 
 
 "He has a daughter. I — I like her. He 
 doesn't like to have me like her." 
 
 Bridger grinned broadly in sympathetic 
 amusement. 
 
 "Old man acted rough, eh? They sometimes 
 do unless you marry a' Injun squaw. No chance 
 for trouble with them as a feller is never spoken 
 to by, an' mustn't speak to, his father-in-law. 
 Everything goes as smooth as a fiddle. But 
 work?" 
 
 "Parker said the A. F. C. would see to it I got 
 none in St. Louis." 
 
 "It's like the A. F. C. Won't give a man his 
 bread an' butter an' don't 'low to let any one else. 
 They'll have more important things to think 
 about afore the season's over. Now let's see. 
 We're all finished up here. A few weeks ago I 
 could have used you fine. This fussing round 
 with papers makes me nervous, an' I reckon you'd 
 done it quicker'n a wolf can steal meat." 
 
 "I've done quite a bit of it. Parker wants to 
 fix it to drive me from town. And you can't use 
 me here?" 
 
30 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Not now. Mebbe later." And Bridger's 
 voice was very kind. "You see the outfit gits 
 under way to-morrow. Some of the men are at 
 St. Charles with the keelboat. Some are waiting 
 at Lexington for the steamer to fetch up goods 
 an' supplies. Etienne Prevost will take the keel- 
 boat as far as Fort Pierre. I shall take the land 
 party through to the yearly rendezvous some- 
 where on Green River. An' some of the men are 
 helling round St. Louis to-night an' will be lucky 
 if they ain't left behind. I leave in an hour on 
 my best mule to ride across country to Lexing- 
 ton. So, my young friend, the work down here 
 is all done an' I'm sorry." * 
 
 "It was only a chance," sighed Lander. "I 
 didn't want to miss the shadow of a chance." 
 
 Bridger tugged at his brown hair and eyed 
 Lander thoughtfully. Then he abruptly asked: 
 
 "Why don't you take on with a mountain trip ? 
 Give you two hundred 'n' ninety dollars for the 
 next year 'n' half — eighteen months — an' such 
 grub as can be found in the Injun country. 
 You're young. Once you git started no knowing 
 how far you'll go." 
 
 Lander's eyes glistened and for a moment Brid- 
 ger believed he was to sign up. Then his gaze 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 31 
 
 fell. The mountain trip was all he would ask for 
 it if were not for leaving Susette behind. At least 
 he could not leave her until he had seen her and 
 had explained things. 
 
 "If that offer could hold good for a few days," 
 he began. 
 
 "No, sir ! Take it or leave it as it stands," cut 
 in Bridger. "We want men who can decide 
 things right off the handle. The outfit starts 
 to-morrow. Those who don't git across country 
 to St. Charles to-night will git left." 
 
 "Well, Tm sorry I can't sign on, and I can't 
 start to-morrow. I've several things to attend to. 
 Much obliged for the offer, though." 
 
 "That's all right," grunted Bridger, nodding 
 his head and returning to his lists. 
 
 Outside the store Lander recalled his appoint- 
 ment with Papa Clair at Tilton's place on 
 the water-front near the foot of Cherry Street. 
 He hurried to the rendezvous inflamed by his 
 desire to find Phinny. In his despair and dis- 
 couragement he needed something to feed upon ; 
 and so long as a successful love seemed dubious 
 he would turn to the positive of hate. He now 
 knew he had hated Phinny for a long time and 
 had subconsciously resented the man's many petty 
 
32 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 treacheries. With desire for Httle Susette bur- 
 geoning his path he had put hate to one side. 
 Had the path held smooth his ignorement of 
 Phinny would have been permanent. Outraged 
 by Hurry-Up Parker's contemptuous treatment 
 he fished out his grievance against Phinny from 
 its mental pigeonhole and knew it was a matter 
 demanding imperative attention. 
 
 He minutely reviewed his career as storeman 
 for the A. F. C. and easily traced the thread of 
 treachery running through Phinny's daily actions. 
 He recalled the innumerable little disagreeable 
 incidents at the beginning of his employment, 
 when he was made to appear awkward and slow- 
 witted when Parker's attention was unnecessarily 
 attracted to his minor faults. Phinny's persever- 
 ance in undermining his chances for favorable 
 attention was like the malicious gnawing of the 
 Missouri at its banks. What at the time had im- 
 pressed him as being purposeless acts of mischief 
 now bobbed to the surface of his recollections as 
 deliberate traps. Phinny had plotted systemat- 
 ically from the beginning against the blind lover. 
 
 Lander's new perspective also permitted him to 
 discern quite accurately the time Hurry-Up Par- 
 ker shifted from his usual gruff attitude to evi- 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 33 
 
 dences of surly dislike. Phinny was slated for 
 promotion to Cabanne's Post, or Fort Union, on 
 the upper river. Lander was being groomed to 
 take his place in the store. Shortly after this 
 arrangement was tacitly understood by Parker 
 and his two employees, Parker had displayed a 
 new face and the promotion was not spoken of 
 again. 
 
 Lander was compelled to admit to himself that 
 his failure to advance might be due in part to his 
 own indifference. He had entered the A. F. C. 
 with a fine mettle to see service above the Yellow- 
 stone. He had longed to take his chances with 
 the keelboats fighting their way by the treach- 
 erous Aricara villages in the land of the Sioux 
 near the mouth of Grand River. He had dreamed 
 of visiting the Cheyennes at the eastern base of 
 the Black Hills. There were the Mandans and 
 Minnetarees along the Upper Missouri and the 
 Knife to be explored, and the stories of Lewis 
 and Clark to be verified. Between their villages 
 and the Milk and extending far north were the 
 numerous and powerful Assiniboins to be con- 
 quered in trade. From the Milk to the source of 
 the Missouri were the Blackfeet, ferocious in their 
 hatred toward the whites. What better adventur- 
 
34 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 ing- than the sharp dash into the beaver country ! 
 In the valleys of the Yellowstone and the Big 
 Horn were the Crows with their strange liking to 
 have white men live among them. He eagerly 
 had sought his information from returning trad- 
 ers and trappers. He had absorbed much about 
 the various nations. He had drawn deductions 
 his informants were too lazy mentally to indulge 
 in, such as the probable halting of the fur trade 
 for many years if the nations along the Missouri 
 had not been poor boatmen, seeking the river 
 largely for water and fuel. Had they been like 
 the Eastern Indians, skilful in water-craft, what 
 chance would boats have had prior to the coming 
 of steam? And had the wooden canoe and the 
 flatboat and keelboat been discouraged from pen- 
 etrating the unknown country would steam have 
 become sufficiently interested to take over the 
 river ? 
 
 There was no doubt but that he had started in 
 on hi^ work with a fine zeal, and that Parker had 
 seized him as an unusual youngster and had been 
 impressed by his enthusiasm. Then came the 
 curly-headed rattle-pate, and the swish of her 
 dainty skirts had sent all his fine ambitions 
 a- flying. 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 35 
 
 As he made for Tilton's he confessed there was 
 much room for self-criticism. He had feebly 
 endeavored to criticize himself before, but his 
 reproaches were always put to flight by the sooth- 
 ing realization he would see Susette on the mor- 
 row. So he had kept at his dead tasks, exchang- 
 ing his chance to become a mountain man for the 
 sake of her sweet smiles. 
 
 There was Bridger. He might have been like 
 B ridge r, a born topographer, more familiar with 
 the mountain passes and streams than even Kit 
 Carson. Bridger and Carson had trapped 
 together on the Powder River two years back. 
 
 One year before, when but twenty-six years 
 old, Bridger with Milton Sublette, Henry Frack 
 and John B. Gervaise, had bought out the old 
 partners of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. 
 Under Bridger's lead two hundred men had 
 passed through the Big Horn basin, had crossed 
 the Yellowstone, had followed the Missouri to its 
 three forks, then up the Jefferson to the Divide 
 and on to the Great Salt Lake. Twelve hundred 
 miles before they returned to winter on the 
 Powder. 
 
 "And all I've done is to wear out a path 
 between goods and supplies in the store," groaned 
 
36 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Lander. "Bridger, not much older'n I am, can 
 travel all over the continent; and I can't make a 
 trail to Pine Street." 
 
 Lander was honest enough not to blame 
 Phinny for those shortcomings which love was 
 responsible for. 
 
 "But He might 'a' let me alone. He 
 
 could 'a' seen I was slipping back in the old man's 
 good-will without giving me the sly kicks he did 
 to make me slip faster." 
 
 What would Jim Bridger have 'done had 
 Phinny plotted against himf He would have 
 made him "chaw dirt." No doubt about that. 
 But Hurry-Up Parker would never discourage 
 Jim Bridger if he came wooing Susette. Old 
 Parker would have welcomed him with both 
 hands, brought out a bottle and insisted on mak- 
 ing a night of it, and would have concluded the 
 bout with urging his son-in-law to take a large 
 part in the affairs of the A. F. C. 
 
 All St. Louis knew — and this meant all the fur- 
 trading world — that Bridger was a thorn to the 
 A. F. C. and would give the powerful organiza- 
 tion a mighty hard fight this season. Already he 
 had aroused the A. F. C. to a point where it ad- 
 mitted his mettle by sending men to dog him 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 37 
 
 over the country and to compete with him once 
 he had led the way to choice beaver regions. 
 Bridger had been recognized as a menace. He 
 was asked into the city office for drinks and 
 cigars. Lander, the clerk, was ignominiously 
 driven from the premises. 
 
 "I'll even up with Phinny, then get work," con- 
 cluded Lander as he neared Tilton's. "Pd gone 
 with Bridger in a minute if he wasn't in such a 
 hurry to get started." 
 
 A squeaking fiddle and a rough chorus focused 
 his mind on the job ahead of him. Throwing 
 open the door he stepped through and to one side 
 and leaned against the wall while he got his bear- 
 ings, for the place was foggy with tobacco smoke. 
 The usual rough-scuff of river loungers was 
 draped over the long bar. In the corners and 
 along the sides of the big room were a dozen 
 mountain men, sleeping off their last spree before 
 returning to fight the Blackfeet. 
 
 Keelboat men who would stick to the river, 
 who preferred cordelling their long crafts the 
 thousand odd miles to seeking fortune in the 
 mountains, were uproariously drunk and danc- 
 ing in the middle of the floor. Some were French 
 Canadians, others — and these were more favored 
 
38 KINiGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 by traders — were St. Louis Creoles. Both types 
 were light-hearted and irresponsible. They were 
 capable of carrying" a thousand-foot tow-line the 
 full length of the Missouri, forcing their way 
 through all natural obstacles, but of not much 
 account when the Indians rode along the shores 
 and enfiladed them with arrows and balls and 
 invited them to come up and make a real fight. 
 When it came to battle it was the long-haired and 
 bewhiskered trapper, who would rather walk 
 from St. Louis to the Rockies than to carry a 
 tow-line a day's journey, who would quit his 
 yarning and smoking and gambling to swarm up 
 the bank and debate the matter. 
 
 In addition to these well-known specimens of 
 the frontier town there were strangers, easily 
 classified but not to be included in the lists of 
 useful occupations. These were less boisterous 
 than the drunken boatmen, less sleepy and indif- 
 ferent than the mountain men. They drank with 
 their backs to the wall and out of range of win- 
 dows. Even when swallowing their fiery pota- 
 tions they did not close the eye or roll it to the 
 ceiling in mute testimony to the liquor's potency. 
 They tipped the glass rather than the head and 
 maintained a level gaze on the door, and ceased 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 39 
 
 swallowing until they had settled the status of 
 each newcomer. These were the derelicts from 
 beyond the Mississippi, fleeing the noose, crea- 
 tures with blood on their souls and who needed 
 only the opportunity to augment their sins by 
 further killings. It was the influx of these des- 
 peradoes that gave St. Louis a name for 
 lawlessness. 
 
 Lander swept the murky room and met the 
 challenging stare of a dozen suspicious eyes, then 
 started down the bar, the white head of Papa 
 Clair having caught his eye. The old man flung 
 up a hand and beckoned to him briskly. The law- 
 breakers noted the gesture of welcome and 
 returned to their drink. 
 
 Papa was on a bench in the corner near a table. 
 At the table, but not of his company, were four 
 men who were neither traders, trappers, nor river 
 men. Their secrecy in conversing, the failure of 
 the strong liquor to loosen their tongues, the gar- 
 nishment of pistols and long knife in the belt of 
 each, and — this as indicative as all else — the 
 timidity and deference of the mulatto serving 
 their table, tagged them as superlative fugitives 
 from eastern justice, most excellent fellows to 
 keep away from. 
 
40 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 In his haste to join his friend fenced off in the 
 corner Lander's foot struck against the chair at 
 the end of the table, causing the occupant's hand 
 to spill his liquor. His friends laughed jeeringly. 
 With a vile outcry, without bothering to draw a 
 weapon from his bristling belt, the man sprang 
 to his feet and swung the bottle of liquor above 
 his head. Lander stood as stupefied, his wits 
 paralyzed, and he would have been brained if it 
 had not been for the glittering streak over the 
 table. 
 
 With a roar of pain the man dropped the bot- 
 tle and stared aghast at the riven forearm. 
 Lightly as a cat old Papa Clair came swarming 
 over the table, a second blade clutched by the 
 haft, and with a yank that sent the desperado reel- 
 ing into his chair with sickness he recovered his 
 knife, softly crying: 
 
 "It is mine. Please!" 
 
 "Lawful heart, but he's done gone an' throwed 
 a knife through Buck's arm !" howled one of the 
 four ; and he came to his feet, his hand fumbling 
 at his belt. 
 
 The others pushed back their chairs, but before 
 they could rise Papa Clair's left hand poised a 
 knife by the tip, the other held for a thrust in 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 41 
 
 his right han'd. Lander came to his senses and 
 whipped out his blade from his boot. Papa Clair 
 jolted him to the rear with an elbow and, mincing 
 aside a few steps to confront the man on his feet, 
 he purred : 
 
 "Ah, m'sieu knows the knife. See and behold ! 
 I drop my hand. I take the knife by the handle. 
 I will not move till m'sieu lifts his blade and is 
 ready to throw." 
 
 A river-rat squirmed up to the table and whis- 
 pered hoarsely in the desperado's ear. With a 
 sickly grimace the man placed both hands on the 
 table. His friends glared at him in wonderment. 
 He explained : 
 
 "Devil Clair. Go 'down to the Gulf an' ask 
 'bout him in th' old days. If any on ye wants to 
 pick up this trouble an' carry a fight to him, ye're 
 welcome to my chance. I quits. IVe seen a 
 'gator chaw up a puppy. There ain't a bit o' fight 
 left in my whole natur'." Then to Papa Clair and 
 with a side nod toward the wounded man, "Ye 
 got through with Hepsy ?" 
 
 Papa Clair was grieved and replacing one 
 knife tugged at his long white mustache 
 regretfully. 
 
 "No spirit," he sighed to Lander. "When I 
 
42 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 was young — Such a long, well-lighted room, 
 with plenty of room for the people to line up and 
 enjoy it. . . . He speaks of the Gulf. Ah, those 
 were days! Descendant of pig-devils, stick out 
 your arm." 
 
 This to the groanhig wounded man. The man 
 timidly obeyed. Papa Clair examined the wound 
 and proudly proclaimed to the staring, silent 
 patrons of the place : 
 
 "Through the flesh! The bone is barely 
 touched. As pretty a cast as I ever made. Wash 
 it with whisky and if there isn't too much poison 
 in the blood it will heal rapidly. ... Take nisieu 
 away. He needs quiet and rest. And I need 
 this table." 
 
 The last was accompanied by a bristling glance 
 at the wounded man's friends, a baleful glance 
 that hoped to find opposition. The three men 
 rose and led their groaning friend down the 
 room to the door, followed by jeers and laughter 
 from the onlookers. Papa Clair replaced the 
 knife in his boot and said : 
 
 "My friend, I have waited long for you. Your 
 man has not been in. Where have you been? 
 What have you done ?" 
 
 "Failed in everything I tried. Parker came 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 43 
 
 along before I could see my little friend. But 
 ril see her to-morrow. I found Jim Bridger in 
 the Washington Avenue store and tried to get 
 work with his company. But his outfit starts 
 to-morrow; and of course I couldn't go without 
 seeing the lady. Two failures. If they go in 
 threes it means I shall not see Phinny and settle 
 my score with him to-night." 
 
 *Tt is to be regretted your not seeing your lit- 
 tle friend to-night. If you could have explained 
 to her to-night — But there; you didn't know 
 when you went to meet her that you might ask 
 work off Bridger. He is a great man. Not so 
 good with the knife as Jim Baker, yet a great 
 man. I was with him in Cache Valley on Bear 
 River in the winter of twenty-four. Etienne 
 Prevost had charge of us during our trapping on 
 the Wind and Green that season. We did not 
 agree about the course of the Bear and wagers 
 were made. It was night and Bridger rose and 
 said he would settle the dispute. He left the fire 
 and disappeared. When we saw him again it was 
 when he came back from the Great Salt Lake. 
 He had followed the Bear to the lake. He had 
 found the water salt. He was the first white man 
 to see that body of water. The Spaniards say 
 
44 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 one of their missionaries, Friar Escalante of 
 Santa Fe, visited the lake in seventeen seventy- 
 five. I believe M'sieu Bridger v^as the first. 
 And do you know, my friend, we all believed the 
 lake was an arm of the Pacific until the next sea- 
 son when four of our men visited it and explored 
 the shore line in skin-boats and found it had no 
 outlet." 
 
 "Bridger's a good mountain man, all right," 
 shortly agreed Lander, his own failures making 
 the other^s praise offensive. "But he has his 
 weak spots. All about cooking fish and meat in 
 boiling springs, hot water shooting into the air 
 nearly a hundred feet ! If that wasn't enough he 
 insists the hot water spouts at certain times, 
 just so long a time apart. Wonder who keeps 
 watch of it and turns it off and on every so often. 
 Then there's his cave of Indian war-paint. 
 Wonder why any Indians bother to trade robes 
 for our vermilion when they can have it for noth- 
 ing at any time !" 
 
 "That is up in the Crow country. He had a 
 chance to look about up there. He may forget 
 and fill up the chinks with fancies, yet he must 
 have seen something," wistfully defended Papa 
 Clair, his white brows drawn down in bushy 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 45 
 
 bewilderment. "So fine a man can not be a liar. 
 When he told me about pickling enough buffalo 
 in the Great Salt Lake to last a big band of trap- - y 
 pers a whole season I could see there was sense to ' 
 the scheme. But, my friend, I'm sorry he told ; 
 about the cooking springs. Warm water per- 
 haps; but to catch fish from a stream and throw 
 them over and boil them — name of a pipe! 
 Yet I try to believe him. The pickling of buffalo 
 rang true but — ^there, there! He is a fine man. 
 Let us not say more about it." 
 
 "Why hasn't some one else seen that wonder- 
 ful lake, sixty miles long, hemmed in by moun- 
 tains?" persisted Lander. 
 
 Papa shrugged his thin shoulders and with a 
 malicious little grin said : 
 
 "I know one way to prove it is, or isn't. If I 
 were younger I should do it by myself. That is 
 to go there and look about. If I were younger — 
 Well, well, Jim Bridger has seen so much that is 
 wonderful he has no need to tell fairy stories. 
 I swallowed his pickled buffalo. Why not ? But 
 behold! I feel depressed when he tells of the 
 cooking-spring. The cave of war-paint. Some 
 one must have left some paint there. But to say 
 it grows — ^holy blue! Yet he saw something. 
 
46 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Perhaps the lake wasn't sixty miles long. Per- 
 haps the water was not scalding hot, just warm. 
 Who knows? And yet when I was very young, 
 even before the Missouris were exterminated, 
 when the Otoes and Kansas tribes were some- 
 thing besides names, I heard strange stories from 
 the up-river country — like fairy stories. But yet 
 so wonderful a country must have wonderful 
 secrets. Even in the few years left to me and my 
 knives I believe I could uncover some strange 
 things up there. Only the good God knows it all. 
 And if I did they would call me, *Papa Clair, the 
 old liar.' " 
 
 "Not to your face, Papa," warmly declared 
 Lander. "And I haven't thanked you yet for 
 stopping that fellow from braining me. My head 
 was asleep. I saw him lift the bottle over me 
 and it seemed I was dreaming and couldn't move 
 a peg. If some one had touched me, just to start 
 me — but no one did. So, old friend, I owe you a 
 life." 
 
 "Take good care of it. Keep it clean for the 
 little friend. Wait!" 
 
 He beckoned to a boy and gave an order. The 
 boy brought a bottle of French wine which Papa 
 Clair lovingly decanted, and then proposed : 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 47 
 
 "To Her! We shall see different pictures as 
 we drink; yet it is the same little woman to be 
 found in every land where love is." 
 
 They drank standing, the ceremony attracting 
 the attention of those near by. As they were 
 resuming their seats the door opened with a 
 crash, and Malcom Phinny, followed by several 
 men, entered. He flapped his arms and crowed a 
 challenge. River men stirred uneasily, anxious 
 to cut his comb. Old mountain men lazily opened 
 their eyes, sniffed in contempt, and went back to 
 their sleep. 
 
 Phinny undoubtedly would have been quickly 
 accommodated with more trouble than he could 
 carry had not Tilton rushed from behind the bar 
 and greeted him effusively, thus branding him 
 as a friend and one who was protected by the 
 warning, "Hands off." 
 
 "Coming man in the A. F. C," a trader at the 
 table next to Clair's informed his companion, a 
 long-haired free trapper. 
 
 "To with the A. F. C," growled the trap- 
 per. "He'll be a goin' man if he does any more 
 ki-yi-yiing round here." 
 
 Papa Clair reached forward and tapped him 
 lightly on the shoulder and sweetly asked : 
 
48 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Is it not much better, m'sieu, for the old men 
 of the village to correct their young men than for 
 outsiders to take over the task ?" 
 
 The trapper gave him a belligerent glance, rec- 
 ognized the wrinkled face, and fretfully snarled : 
 
 *T don't want none o' yer fight, Etienne Clair. 
 If yer knife is lookin* for meat it can look 
 farther." 
 
 Papa sighed despondently and settled back and 
 toyed with his wine. Lander, who was watch- 
 ing Phinny, was scarcely conscious of this little 
 by-play ; and as he gazed his eyes glared wickedly. 
 The loss of his position, the warning to keep 
 away from the Pine Street home and Susette, 
 were all attributed to the dark face up the line. 
 
 Phinny had been drinking enough to make 
 him reckless. If not for Tilton's public avowal 
 of favor a dozen hands would have pawed at him 
 before he was ten feet inside the door. Again he 
 flapped his arms and crowed. Beyond side 
 glances no attention was paid him this time. 
 Cocking his head insolently he strutted the length 
 of the bar. Papa Clair heard Lander's boots 
 scrape on the rough floor as he drew his feet 
 under him. 
 
 Phinny now saw him and his dark eyes glit- 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 49 
 
 tered vindictively. Taking a position at the end 
 of the bar where he could keep his gaze on Lan- 
 der, he rolled some coins on the slab and in a loud 
 voice invited: 
 
 "Every one drinlc to my luck in gitting rid of a 
 snake, a two-legged snake, that crawled out of 
 my path and knows better than to return." 
 
 "Curse him !" hissed Lander, his hand dropping 
 down to his boot and playing with the haft of his 
 knife. 
 
 "Softly, softly. It all works out very sweetly," 
 purred Papa Clair, his blue eyes beaming cheerily. 
 "Patience. A well-lighted room, a company wor- 
 shipful of good entertainment, and fair play in 
 the person of Etienne Clair. But let it come 
 naturally." 
 
 The liquor was speedily consumed, and Phinny, 
 noting the strained expression on Lander's face, 
 made more coins dance on the bar and bawled : 
 
 "It's my night. It's been my day. To-morrow 
 will be my day. Once more with me, and drink 
 hearty. This time to *S' — the only woman 
 west of the Mississippi." 
 
 "Base-born dog!" growled Papa Clair, his 
 white beard bristling. 
 
 Lander rose to his feet and picked up his glass. 
 
so KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Before he could hurl it Phinny threw his glass, 
 striking Lander on the arm but doing no harm. 
 
 ^'You'll fight, you sneak !" roared Lander. 
 
 *'0h, my friend, my friend,'* groaned Papa 
 Clair, seizing Lander's arm and preventing him 
 from leaping at his enemy. "Such roughness! 
 Such lack of wit ! I am embarrassed !'* 
 
 "You heard him!" choked Lander, trying to 
 throw off the detaining hand. 
 
 *' You've played into his hands. YouVe chal- 
 lenged him," sighed the old man, his long, slim 
 fingers contracting like circlets of steel. "It 
 could have been so pretty. Now it becomes a 
 brawl .... But wait ! He had no right to throw 
 the glass and make you challenge him. You gave 
 the first affront when you rose to hurl your glass. 
 Hell's devils! Does he think to conduct this like 
 a keelboat fight ? I will straighten it out. I will 
 make his friends see it in the true light. He 
 must challenge you, and you shall have choice of 
 weapons." 
 
 He rose with a knife held back of his arm and 
 took a step toward Phinny, when Lander swept 
 him behind him, hoarsely objecting : 
 
 "No, no. Let it finish as it began." Then to 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 51 
 
 Phlnny : "I said you must fight. You have lost 
 your tongue ?'* 
 
 "Yes, ril fight," gritted Phinny. "Tilton will 
 look after me. I only demand that we fight at 
 once. Here." 
 
 "Not here," protested Tilton. "Gentlemen, 
 please be still. I'll look after my friend. I sup- 
 pose this young cock-a-lorum can scare up a 
 friend." 
 
 "Viable m'emporte!'' ejaculated Papa Clair, 
 gliding forward. "Come ! What do you mean ? 
 You try to pick a quarrel with an old man. Yes. 
 I appear for M'sieu Lander. Behold, you speak 
 slurringly of me to him. This is very bad. 
 Come!" 
 
 Tilton's liquor-flushed face became pallid. 
 Fragments of strange tales concerning Papa 
 Clair's wild youth flocked through the man's 
 mind — wicked old stories of the Gulf, when men 
 made their own laws, whispers of lonely lagoons 
 that were visited only by piratical craft. 
 
 "I meant I reckined it might be difficult for 
 him to reach his friends in time to fight at once. 
 No harm was meant. As you represent him 
 s'pose we talk it over. Mebbe we can fix it up 
 without any fighting." 
 
52 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Then you don't stand for me," cried Phinny, 
 whisky-courageous, and he walked to the upper 
 end of the bar. 
 
 "Oh, you shall have your satisfy, young roos- 
 ter,'' sneered Papa Clair, in nowise contented 
 with Tilton's evasion of a quarrel. 
 
 Tilton waved the crowd back and talked earn- 
 estly to Papa who heard him sullenly. 
 
 "I agree," shortly said Papa as the saloon- 
 keeper finished. "It is poor sport when so much 
 better could be had for the asking." 
 
 With that he returned to Lander, twisting his 
 long mustaches and trembling with anger. 
 
 "We are to go over to Bloody Island," he 
 rapped out. 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 "As the challenged person he chooses pistols. 
 Sacrilege!" snapped Papa. 
 
 "I do not care. Let it be pistols. Only let's go 
 to business." 
 
 "My friend, be patient. You sHall soon face 
 him. It is not because I fear for you with pistols 
 that I grieve. It is because you blundered and 
 played into their hands. When all was so prettily 
 staged for clean knife-play! Bah! Honor is 
 more easily satisfied these days. But there were 
 
AT TILTON'S PLACE 53 
 
 times when one 'did not have to wait a year to see 
 the knife-fight. Well, well. Let us get along 
 with it. Perhaps some time we shall deserve bet- 
 ter. We go at once. The moon is up. It will be 
 light enough to exchange shots." 
 
Chapter III 
 
 THE DUEL 
 
 ¥T liACKED an hour of midnight when Jim 
 ^ Bridger locked the Washington Avenue store 
 and walked down to the river-front. He was 
 about to leave the city for another year in the 
 mountains, and there was no guarantee he would 
 ever return. There were many forgotten graves 
 along the Missouri and its tributaries. Bridger 
 meditated calmly on the possible vicissitudes of 
 the season ahead, and knew that for a certain 
 percentage of his mountain men this would be the 
 last trip to the Rockies. 
 
 He had halted close to the river and found him- 
 self staring through the soft moonlight at Bloody 
 Island. The island, famous as a dueling-ground 
 for the hot spirits of the time, who would not be 
 satisfied with anything short of a rival's blood, 
 always fascinated him. As a boy he knew its his- 
 tory.: Often he had wandered over it and paused 
 
 54 
 
THE DUEL 55 
 
 to rest in the shade of the huge cottonwood which 
 had stood there a sturdy tree long before St. 
 Charles, Petite Cote, began life as the first settle- 
 ment on the Missouri, or two years before St. 
 Louis had its beginning. 
 
 Bridger was thirteen years old and supporting 
 himself and his sister with his ferry-boat when 
 Thomas H. Benton, "Old Bullion,'' and Charles 
 Lucas fought two duels on the island, Lucas being 
 killed. Six years later Joshua Barton, a brother 
 of the first United States Senator from Missouri, 
 was killed by Thomas Rector under the cotton- 
 wood. And could he have read the future for the 
 period of but four months he would have known 
 that Major Thomas Biddle, paymaster of the 
 United States Army, and Congressman Spencer 
 Pettis were to kill each other, the range being 
 but five feet. 
 
 As he was recalling the historic encounters, 
 and many others of lesser notoriety, he was dis- 
 turbed by the dipping of paddles and the appear- 
 ance of a long dugout making for the island. His 
 spell vanished and he would have left the levee 
 had he not observed that the canoe was filled with 
 men. The hour, the number of men in the twen- 
 ty-five footer, told him that only one errand 
 
56 KINiGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 could call them to Bloody Island. He stayed his 
 steps and stared after them curious to witness the 
 finale of the affair. A second canoe shot into 
 the moonlight, but this was smaller than the other 
 and seemed to contain but two men. From the 
 forward canoe a deep voice bawled : 
 
 "American Fur ag'in' th' world !" 
 
 This sentiment was loudly cheered. Bridger, 
 who was gathering himself to give the autocratic 
 A. F. C. the fight of its life, walked back to the 
 water's edge and frowned thoughtfully as he 
 watched the progress of the second craft. 
 
 "There's going to be a fight. First canoe's 
 filled plumb full of A. F. C. men. Them two 
 most likely are Opposition men. They oughter 
 have some one sorter to look after them. I'd 
 hate to be the only stranger on the island in a 
 crowd of A. F. C. men if any blood was to be 
 spilled. I ain't got the time but I reckon I'll drop 
 over an' just see how it works out." 
 
 Searching up and down the levee he soon found 
 a small dugout and with an improvised paddle 
 made for the end of the island. 
 
 Bridger was now beginning to be recognized 
 as the foremost mountain man of his time. He 
 had been schooled by General Ashley, and had 
 
THE DUEL 57 
 
 trapped and explored every tributary of the Platte 
 and Yellowstone with such men as Lucien B. 
 Maxwell, Carson, and Jim Baker. He was old 
 in the ways of the plains and mountains before he 
 became one of the heads of the Rocky Mountain 
 Fur Company. He had been present at the attack 
 on the villages of the treacherous Aricaras in the 
 spring of 1823, the first campaign against trans- 
 Mississippi Indians conducted by a United States 
 army, when Ashley and his veterans joined forces 
 with General Atkinson and his "Missouri Le- 
 gion." The A. F. C. would gladly buy his ser- 
 vices, being especially troubled and incensed 
 because he followed his old chief's example of 
 taking trappers to the mountains without depend- 
 ing upon the good-will of the natives, or on set- 
 tled trading-posts. The powerful organization 
 was now prepared to fight him at his own game 
 by sending companies of men to dog his steps and 
 compete with him at every turn ; and in doing this 
 the A. F. C. admitted his/ worth as a trader and 
 advertised their fear of him as an opponent. 
 
 Bridger this night was on the eve of a battle 
 royal for beaver, but he had no thought except for 
 the fight between unknown men on Bloody Is- 
 land. The sentiment from the leading canoe. 
 
58 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 revealing the men were 'A. F. C. sympathizers, 
 made him keen to follow and see that the minority 
 received fair play. Landing at the nose of the 
 island he pulled up his canoe. Then with a mas- 
 tery of woodcraft that would have made an 
 Indian jealous he threaded his way toward the 
 opening where the duels were always fought. 
 Before he reached the spot he caught the sound 
 of voices, one in particular being raised most 
 blatantly. 
 
 *'That would be Tilton," he muttered. "Owned 
 by the A. F. C. body an' soul, if he happens to 
 have any such thing." 
 
 "I'm running this show!" Tilton shouted as 
 Bridger reached the end of the bush growth and 
 stood unobserved in the shadows and watched the 
 moon-lighted scene. 
 
 "A thousand pardons, m'sieu/' remonstrated a 
 soft voice. "But behold, you will run on to my 
 knife if you fail in courtesy to M'sieu Lander." 
 
 "The devil ! Young Lander, who wanted a job 
 with me!" muttered Bridger. "Wouldn't go to 
 the mountains along of leaving his girl. Now he 
 takes a chance on losing his life — an' all of a 
 pleasant evening. He must have some spirit 
 Mebbe I misjudged him." 
 
THE DUEL 59 
 
 "Mister Phinny, as th' challenged party, has 
 said pistols," began Tilton. 
 
 "To be sure. Behold, it is his right," broke in 
 Papa Clair. "But the distance and the positions 
 are not for you to name. We will toss a coin for 
 position, and we will decide between us how far 
 apart they shall stand." 
 
 "Oh, let's have it over with," grumbled Lander. 
 "Give me a pistol and stand the skunk before me. 
 If he isn't near enough I'll go after him." 
 
 "You'll find me near enough to put a ball 
 through your heart, or my name ain't Malcom 
 Phinny," jeered the other principal. 
 
 "Phinny?" mused Bridger. "The same who 
 went to bring down the Pawnee trade to Cab- 
 anne's, found them away on a war-path and stole 
 their corn, and made them believe it was our 
 men.'* 
 
 "I reckon they don't want any of our fight," 
 sneered one of Phinny 's adherents from the edge 
 of the grove. 
 
 "Pardon! Does m'sieu want to fight?" 
 politely inquired Papa Clair, running toward the 
 group in the shadows. 
 
 "Keep that sticker 'way from my ribs!" fran- 
 tically yelled the man. 
 
6o KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Come back here, Papa. This is growing into 
 a joke. That swarthy dog doesn't want to fight. 
 Hurry or they'll be swimming back to the city," 
 called out Lander. 
 
 "My man will fight at fifteen paces," snarled 
 Tilton. 
 
 "Very well. It is most excellent to find he will 
 fight at all," said Papa Clair. "If one stands 
 where M'sieu Tilton is standing, and one here in 
 my tracks, the light will be equal and M'sieu Til- 
 ton can place his man w^ithout tossing the coin." 
 
 "Not by a sight !" growled Tilton. Then 
 
 with a vicious laugh : "This is for blood. Keep 
 yer Frenchy perliteness to yerself. We'll toss a 
 coin. Th' winner picks any spot in the openin' he 
 w^ants to an' t'other man must face him. Hi, Bil- 
 lings ! Step out here an' flip a coin." 
 
 Bridger gave a low, amused laugh at the bald- 
 faced plan to do murder. Papa Clair spat with a 
 hissing noise and ominously objected : 
 
 "Be careful, M*sieu Tilton. Be very careful. 
 Not M'sieu Dillings. He has the prejudice. He 
 has said he did not believe my man wanted the 
 fight. We do not trust him. No." 
 
 "Well, I can't toss it; neither can ye toss it; 
 
THE DUEL 6i 
 
 neither can Phinny nor Lander. Name any one 
 ye want to/' affably replied Tilton. 
 
 ''But you all are of the same," protested Clair. 
 "Let them stand as I said with the light fair for 
 both." 
 
 "Ye keep on backin' water an' there won't be 
 enough light to fight by," warned a voice from 
 the shadows. 
 
 "We know our rights. Ye ain't new to this 
 game, Papa Clair," gravely said Tilton. "I insist 
 on th' coin bein' flipped. Name any man on this 
 island; we'll be satisfied an' never make a yip; 
 only be quick." 
 
 "You know well we have no friends here," 
 replied Clair savagely. "You bring a crowd of 
 men. We two are here alone." 
 
 "And only one of you is going back," taunted 
 Phinny. 
 
 "Dog! Defiler of the sacred dueling-ground! 
 Nom de Dieu! It is more the murder trap!" 
 shrilly cried Clair. 
 
 "Name some one or Dillings shall toss th' 
 coin," peremptorily announced Tilton. 
 
 "Wouldn't that be pretty raw, Tilton?" 
 drawled Bridger, moving from the bushes. 
 
 The deep silence evidenced how greatly his 
 
62 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 intrusion had jolted the men. Before any one 
 spoke or made a move he advanced into the open- 
 ing and inquired, "Will I do, Papa Clair?'* 
 
 "The devil would do, rather than any of these 
 A. F. C. men," cried Clair. "I can't see you well, 
 m'sieu. Your voice is that of some one I have 
 known and liked. You can't be an A. F. C. man. 
 Give your name." 
 
 "Jim Bridger. Do I suit?" 
 
 "To the sky and ground!" enthusiastically 
 exclaimed Lander. 
 
 "Holy blue! Better than an angel!'* cried 
 Papa Clair. 
 
 "Hold on a minute!" yelled Tilton, still non- 
 plused but realizing he must say something. "I 
 reckin it ain't just reg'lar for a' outsider to come 
 crowding like this. How many ycr men hiding 
 back there?" 
 
 "Never you mind my men, you 'Ricaree- 
 hearted skunk. You and your rotten crowd 
 won't be hurt if you don't try any dirty work. 
 All ready? Here goes." The coin gHttered in 
 the moonlight. Phinny called out anxiously. 
 
 "You lost," announced Bridger. 
 
 "How do we know that?" cried Tilton. 
 
 Bridger stood beside him in two strides. The 
 
THE DUEL 63 
 
 spectators could not see just what tooW place, but 
 all could hear Bridger say : 
 
 ''You heard me say that your man lost the call. 
 What do you mean by your words ? You making 
 off to throw a doubt 'bout my honesty? Quick !" 
 
 "No, no, Mister Bridger. I spoke afore I 
 thought,'* gasped Tilton. 
 
 "Some time some one will git fussed up an' you 
 won't have time to think," somberly warned 
 Bridger. "Lander, choose your position. You 
 can stand and face anywhere you will." 
 
 According to Tilton's own terms Lander could 
 have selected a position in the shadows of the 
 bushes and compelled his man to stand in the 
 bright moonlight. Tilton expected him to take 
 the advantage, especially when Papa Clair 
 repeated Tilton's words, "This is for blood." 
 Lander hesitated a moment, not that he purposed 
 seeking any undue advantage but solely to make 
 Phinny and his followers squirm. 
 
 "Don't sweat any more, Phinny," he called out. 
 "I will stand here, facing Tilton. Measure the 
 ground." 
 
 "An' ril stand over here near my old friends, 
 Dillings an' others, all good A. F. C. men," 
 chuckled Bridger, crossing to the sullen group. 
 
64 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Ah, now we shall have a decent fight. Only 
 with the knife it would be much cleaner. If 
 m'sieu even now wishes to change and fight with 
 the knife my man will not object. But of course 
 not at the present distance." 
 
 "No, no," snarled Phinny, taking a pistol from 
 Tilton and gripping it nervously. 
 
 Tilton stepped off the distance, Papa Clair 
 mincing along at his side to see he did not make 
 it more than fifteen paces. 
 
 "Stand here, Phinny," Tilton gruffly called. 
 "Shall I give the word, Clair?" 
 
 "My friend, M'sieu Bridger, is better to give 
 the word. No one objects?" 
 
 Tilton bit his lips but did not object. Bridger 
 was to be reckoned with in more ways than one. 
 In a physical contest there was no one between 
 the Missouri and the Rockies who could make 
 him hold back from trouble. He was one who 
 never forgot a friend or an injury. His power- 
 ful personality, despite his lack of years, already 
 was registering on St. Louis. He typed the ideals 
 of the fur trade that existed before the A. F. C. 
 made its headquarters in St. Louis in 1822. 
 
 "I'm willin'. It's only a matter o' countin'," 
 sullenly replied Tilton. 
 
THE DUEL 65 
 
 "Ah, men count, and men count," ironically 
 murmured Clair. **If M'sieu Bridger has the 
 great politeness to favor us." 
 
 Bridger strode to a position midway between 
 the two men, halting just out of Hne of their fire, 
 and humorously remarked: 
 
 "I didn't come for the job. But if you all say 
 I must, why, I must." 
 
 Suddenly wheeling to face the men lined up 
 along the bushes he hooked his fingers in his 
 belt and there was no humor now in his voice as 
 he warned: 
 
 "I'll kill any man or men who break in on this 
 game." Then to the duelists: "I shall slowly 
 count three. After the word three you can fire." 
 
 "And I hold my knife by the tip. My eyes are 
 watching M'sieu Tilton," added Papa Clair. 
 
 **Yer s'picions!" growled Tilton, edging away 
 from his principal. "Give the word an' let's have 
 it over with." 
 
 "Make ready. Are you both ready?" called 
 out Bridger sharply. 
 
 "Ready here," snarled Phinny. 
 
 "Ready," quietly called out Lander. 
 
 "One — two — three," slowly and distinctly 
 counted Bridger. 
 
66 KINGS OF, THE MISSOURI 
 
 Phinny fire'd wliile the last word was being 
 tittered, his ball whistling by Lander's ear. An 
 instant later Lander fired, and his opponent half 
 turned, remained motionless for a moment, then 
 slumped down on his knees and rolled over. 
 
 Bridger started toward him, wrathfully crying : 
 
 "The miserable cur, to fire before he got the 
 word!'' 
 
 Tilton reached the prostrate figure first and 
 tore open his shirt, and cried out : 
 
 "Plumb through th' heart!" 
 
 Bridger came to a halt. All the others stood 
 like stumps for a count of five. Then Dillings' 
 voice croaked: 
 
 "The devil's to pay for this. Can't kill a' 
 A. F. C man like that!" 
 
 With a harsh laugh of triumph Papa Clair 
 jeered : 
 
 "M'sleu IS much in the mistake. The A. F. C. 
 men can be killed just like that." 
 
 There was an uneasy stirring by the bushes, 
 and the metallic click of a pistol being cocked 
 brought Bridger's hands from his belt, holding 
 two pistols ; and he warned : 
 
 "A fair fight on Lander's part. A try at mur- 
 der on Phinny's part. Had he killed Lander I 
 
THE DUEL 67 
 
 should have killed him for firing before the word 
 was given. All stay; where you are till we're 
 afloat, or more'n one corpse will be toted from 
 this place." 
 
 "If any one is grieved and wishes to settle a 
 point of honor with me, I will remain. I, Etienne 
 Clair, an old man," began Papa. 
 
 But Bridger cut him short by; fairly taking him 
 under his arm and disappearing among the bushes 
 with Lander at his side. 
 
 "You two take your canoe an' paddle to the 
 foot of the island. IVe got a canoe there an' will 
 join you in a few minutes." 
 
 They jumped into their dugout and shot the 
 craft down-stream. Bridger remained in the 
 narrow path, over which so many vindicators of 
 honor had traveled, and waited. From the open- 
 ing came a confused murmuring of many voices. 
 Then some one passionately cried out : 
 
 "Is three men to git away like that ? It's light 
 'nough to pick 'em off in th' canoe. Come on !" 
 
 There was a rush of feet, a floundering about 
 in the narrow path, then a precipitate halt as 
 Bridger coldly warned : 
 
 "Stand back. A bullet for the next man who 
 comes another step." 
 
68 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Jiin Bridger!" ejaculated one of the men. 
 
 "An' he's waiting to see who'll be first to enter 
 his butcher-shop," was the grim reply. 
 
 "We want to take Phinny across," called out 
 Tilton. 
 
 "No hurry in his case. Stick where you are 
 for a few minutes." 
 
 With this warning Bridger noiselessly slipped 
 into cover and swiftly retreated to the shore and 
 peered down-stream. The dugout was not in 
 sight. He waited a couple of minutes for good 
 measure, and then announced : 
 
 "I'll count twenty, slow-like, then the path is 
 open." 
 
 The men waited for him to commence count- 
 ing. But he had ducked into the bushes and was 
 following the path which skirted the shore, and 
 soon came to where he had left his canoe. Hold- 
 ing their dugout stationary by grasping some 
 overhanging branches Papa Clair and Lander 
 were waiting for him. Pushing off his canoe and 
 leaping in he softly cautioned : 
 
 "Git work out of your paddles. They're 
 skunks, but there's a full dozen of 'em ; an' a bul- 
 let from a coward's gun might kill the bravest 
 man that ever lived." 
 
THE DUEL 69 
 
 He led the way and it was not until they were 
 nearing the levee that they discerned the other 
 dugout slowly making the crossing. As they 
 landed and hurriedly walked up the levee Bridger 
 said: "The man Dillings 'lowed there'd be trou- 
 ble. I reckon he was right so far as our young 
 friend is mixed in it, Papa." 
 
 *Tt was a fair fight. No one can bother him," 
 said Clair. 
 
 "He won't be bothered by the law but he'll be 
 a marked man so long as that band of wolves 
 feels fretted over to-night's work. Some day 
 he'll turn up missing. Mebbe not to-morrow or 
 next day, but soon. He must quit town for a spell 
 if he wants to keep on living." 
 
 *T must see some one before I quit town," said 
 Lander, his mind in a whirl. 
 
 "All right. You oughter know your own busi- 
 ness best. But the chances is you'll never grow 
 up an' die an' leave her a widder. But that's 
 your game." 
 
 "M'sicti Bridger is right as he always is right," 
 sighed Papa Clair. "If they had fought with 
 knives no one would make trouble. If those who 
 want to pick up the quarrel would come out in the 
 open like men you should stay and meet them one 
 
yo KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 by one, always choosing knives, as you would be 
 the challenged party. But a shot in the dark, a 
 knife- thrust while you sleep! Bah, the savages! 
 My young friend, y6u must leave St. Louis." 
 
 "He must go to-night," added Bridger. 
 
 "Go ? Where to ?" asked Lander. 
 
 "Up or down the river," retorted the old man. 
 
 "With no work ahead of him an' probably 
 without much money," mused Bridger. "No; 
 that won't do. They could trail him easy an' 
 find the killing; better down-river than right here 
 in St. Louis. This is the best way; go across 
 country an' make St. Charles by morning. Some 
 of my men are there, waiting for the rest of the 
 band to join 'em. Etienne Prevost is there with 
 a keelboat. He'll take the boat up to Lexington 
 an' some of the men will keep abreast of him with 
 the mules. The mules are for the band at Lex- 
 ington who are to go overland while Prevost 
 takes the boat on up to Fort Pierre. You can go 
 on the keelboat from St. Charles to Lexington, 
 or you can stick along with the men driving the 
 mules. By the time you reach Lexington you'll 
 have made up your mind whether you'll stick to 
 the boat an' go to Fort Pierre, or make straight 
 for the mountains with the land party. I shall 
 
THE DUEL 71 
 
 ride 'cross-country an' join or catcH up with the 
 land party at Lexington. Once in the mountains 
 all A. F. C. influence this side of judgment day 
 can't make you budge, but mebbe a Injun will 
 dance your sculp." 
 
 "If I must go, I must,'' sighed Lander. "I'll 
 start at once, but I must write a letter first — and 
 get it delivered." 
 
 "I'll act for you, my friend," promptly offered 
 Papa Clair. "Holy blue ! What is to become of 
 me after you are gone ? No more evening lessons 
 .... Yet behold, you know about all I can teach. 
 No more evening walks down by Chouteau's old 
 grist-mill. I have lived my day." 
 
 "I'll be back inside of two years if I'm lucky," 
 lugubriously consoled Lander. 
 
 "Too much talk," snapped Bridger. "That 
 gang has landed. No knowing when they may 
 strike your trail. Git about your letter-writing. 
 Pretty soon they may be combing the city for you. 
 I'll hitch a mule back of my store. I'm off at 
 once to make Lexington. You can make St. 
 Charles by morning easy. Don't stop to git any 
 outfit. Just take your gun an' ride like the devil. 
 Prevost will outfit you. Tell him I sent you — 
 that I'm on my way to Lexington." 
 
^2 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Would Tilton dare to attack me here in the 
 city? Isn't there any law in St. Louis? Or can 
 the friends of the A. F. C. do just as they want 
 to?'* demanded Lander, beginning to grow 
 wrathy at the prospects of enforced flight. 
 
 "Oh, Tilton isn't anybody's fool," assured 
 Bridger. "He won't appear in what happens in 
 St. Louis. But there's a choice collection of mur- 
 derers an' robbers hanging around his saloon 
 who'll do any dirty work for a prime beaverskin. 
 If they slip up on the job Tilton won't be dragged 
 in. He'll just send out another gang after you." 
 
 They parted, Bridger going to procure a mule 
 for the fugitive, the latter and Papa Clair hurry- 
 ing to the Market Street room. Here Lander 
 wrote a long letter, explaining his plight and vow- 
 ing his undying love, and pleading for Miss 
 Susette to wait for him. While he wrote Papa 
 Clair laid out his rifle and trappings. With a 
 long-drawn sigh Lander finished, sanded and 
 sealed the missive and handed it to Papa Clair, 
 and was asking his friend how he proposed to 
 deliver it unsuspected by Hurry-Up Parker, when 
 the old man stuffed the letter inside his coat, 
 clutched Lander by the arm and with his free 
 hand extinguished the light. 
 
The old man stuffed the letter in his pocket and extinguished 
 
 the light. 
 
THE DUEL 73 
 
 "The devil!'' faintly ejaculated Lander, rub- 
 bing his eyes in the darkness. 
 
 "No, men. On the stairs," softly; whispered 
 Papa. 
 
 "Tilton?" whispered Lander, fumbling round 
 and securing his rifle and slipping on his belt, 
 powder-horn and other hunting accouterments. 
 
 "No such luck. Men sent by; him. Men he 
 will wash his hands of if they blunder. They're 
 working for blood-money. Stand here with me 
 behind the door." 
 
 They leaned against the wall and listened. Till 
 now Lander had heard nothing. With his ear to 
 the wall he fancied he caught the sound of soft 
 footsteps stealing to the door. Papa Clair caught 
 him by the ear and dragged down his head and 
 murmured : 
 
 "There are twelve or more — only six apiece. I 
 hear some still coming up the stairs. When they 
 come in keep behind me. We must get into the 
 hall and put out the light." 
 
 "We can go down the back way." 
 
 "Much better. I see your head is clear. They 
 will be sure to have men posted at the bottom of 
 the front stairs. Now be ready." 
 
 An audible shuffling outside the door heraldec' 
 
74 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 the coming attack. There followed a few seconds 
 of silence; then Lander jumped spasmodically 
 as a volley of heavy balls riddled the panels of the 
 door, smashed in the wall beyond and shattered 
 the window. With the discharge of firearms 
 there came a rush of heavy bodies against the 
 none-too-strong door, and in swept the mob of 
 professional killers. The one light in the hall 
 burned dimly and was at the top of the stairs some 
 twenty feet away. It barely dispelled the thick 
 gloom of the room. 
 
 The first two men in were now at the bed, stab- 
 bing furiously. One man wheeled and blundered 
 into the couple crouching behind the door waiting 
 for a chance to dart into the hall. The blunderer 
 screamed and fell writhing to the floor. Papa 
 Clair dived into the group, horribly active and 
 efficient. Lander with his rifle in one hand and 
 knife in the other kept behind him. 
 
 Instantly the room was choked with yells and 
 curses. Blows were showered on the two at ran- 
 dom, and Lander's upraised rifle proved an excel- 
 lent buckler. Some of the blows, bHndly 
 bestowed, fell on the intruders. Pistols were dis- 
 charged at close range, but the darkness of the 
 room prevented accuracy of execution. 
 
THE DUEL 75 
 
 Neither Clair nor Lander had time to distin- 
 guish individuals. With their eyes more accus- 
 tomed to the darkness they made out a frantic 
 mass of milling men, and thrust their knives at 
 random where they found their way blocked by 
 the surging bodies. 
 
 "To the door!" yelled Lander to recall Papa 
 Clair from his Berserk rage. 
 
 The old man remembered their purpose was to 
 escape and shifted his advance, swinging his 
 knife in an arc before him and leaving it for his 
 pupil to guard the flanks. When first precipi- 
 tated into the conflict Lander was heart-sick at 
 the thought of bloodshed ; now he was committed 
 to it. Once he had heard the grunts of the 
 two stabbing the empty bed, he knew only one 
 sensation, to hack his way clear of the beasts who 
 for a few pieces of silver had come to murder an 
 inoffensive stranger. 
 
 Cursing and screaming, the hired assassins 
 found their very numbers blocking them. Then 
 one voice rose above the hubbub, yelling: 
 
 "That ol' devil of a Clair's here ! Look out f er 
 that knife!" 
 
 "In your throat!" shrilly cried Papa Clair, and 
 he seemed to straighten out in mid-air, his knife- 
 
ye KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 point darting an incredible distance. His tra- 
 ducer went down, choking and coughing. 
 
 Lander brought his knife back in a wide slash 
 that sent the crowding assailants reeling back for 
 a moment, and with a rush carried Papa through 
 the door and to the head of the stairs. After 
 them came those still able to walk. With a swing 
 of his rifle he knocked the light to the floor and 
 the hall was in darkness. 
 
 Papa turned to renew the fight but, putting up 
 his knife, Lander swept him from his feet and 
 carried him down the hall. The desperadoes took 
 it for granted their quarry had descended the 
 main stairs to the street, and they called for the 
 lookout at the outer door to stop them. As they 
 rushed down the stairs Lander sighed in relief 
 and led the way down the rear stairs. 
 
 "Bridger was right," said Lander as they stole 
 through the dark streets. "Tilton and his gang 
 will never be satisfied until they get me." 
 
 "The more so, my friend, because M'sieu Brid- 
 ger appeared in the affair as your champion. 
 
 Yes, you must go But life stops for old Papa 
 
 Clair after youVe gone. Yet behold, you should 
 have gone before. The time for wooing is after 
 the long trail has been covered, when your buck- 
 
THE DUEL ^7 
 
 skin garments are so worn no one can tell what 
 they are made of. To come back and say: T 
 have seen life. I have lived and fought my way 
 among men and savages.' Ah, that is the speech 
 that makes m'm'selle very proud. K woman likes 
 to discover things in the man she loves, not to 
 know him as we know the way from here to 
 Petite Cote. Her love is like an old mountain 
 man — always hungry for something new." 
 
 "Eighteen months !" muttered Lander, more to 
 himself than to Papa Clair. 
 
 "The months will pass. Come snow, go snow. 
 What profit could you squeeze out of them if you 
 stayed here and worked in a store ? 
 
 "Life is a bag of months. Fortune is w^iat a 
 man squeezes out of them. To get his satisfy he 
 must squeeze each month very hard. If he can't 
 get love he gets gold. If neither love nor gold 
 he can at least get red-blooded life. Fortune may 
 play tricks with him; m'm'selle may turn from 
 him, but life, real and burning, can always be his." 
 
 "Yes, yes; of course," mumbled Lander, in a 
 poor mood for the comforts of philosophy. 
 "Now you must leave me. Deliver the letter to 
 Susette in the morning. I must hurry to Brid- 
 ger's store and get the mule." 
 
7% KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "The little lady shall have the letter early in 
 the morning. ODo not doubt it. My friend, al- 
 ways wear my knife arid scabbard. Do not, 
 unless hard pressed by several, uncover yourself 
 with those wide, slashing movements you used in 
 the room. Keep behind the point, and God bless 
 you." 
 
 Instead of taking Lander's outstretched hand 
 he seized him by the shoulders and kissed him on 
 both cheeks. 
 
 Lander almost winced in his surprise, then 
 remembered the Frenchman's emotional nature, 
 also his ferocity as a fighting man, and for the 
 first time during the day found himself thinking 
 of some one besides himself and Susette. The 
 slight, frail figure and the snowy hair contrasted 
 vividly with the indomitable will and high heart. 
 He realized he had been Papa Clair's only inti- 
 mate, perhaps the only close friend the old man 
 had known for many years. 
 
 "Good-by, Papa. God knows I am grateful for 
 all you've done for me. Sometime we'll meet 
 again." 
 
 "A year and a half will go quicker for an old 
 man than for youth waiting for his sweetheart. 
 I shall be here, looking for you when the men 
 
THE DUEU 79 
 
 come back from the mountains Remember 
 
 and keep behind the point, I shall think of you 
 much .... Only clumsy fools try to see how much 
 blood they can let loose with a knife with their 
 cutting and slashing." 
 
 There was more, but he had turned away and 
 the words were lost in his throat. 
 
 Lander, too, felt very lonely as he made for the 
 Washington Avenue store. He found the mule 
 hitched at the rear of the dark building. Mount- 
 ing and holding his rifle ready to repulse any 
 attack, he rode to the plain back of the city and 
 swung into the north for his dash to St. Charles. 
 
Chapter IV 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 
 
 'T^HE hamlet of St. Charles was lazily bestir- 
 * ring itself along its one straggling street 
 when Lander rode his tired mule down to the 
 river and signaled for the ferry-man to come and 
 take him across. After some delay the man 
 showed up and with much mumbling and grumb- 
 ling set his passenger and the mule across. 
 
 Passing down the one street Lander followed 
 the shore till he came to a seventy-five-foot keel- 
 boat, the cargo box filling the body with the 
 exception of some ten feet at each end. The 
 thousand feet of towing rope was coiled in the 
 bow as the steamer from St. Louis would arrive 
 during the day and tow it as far as Lexington. 
 From there Bridger's boatman under the crisp 
 direction of Etienne Prevost would cordelle and 
 pole it to Fort Pierre, near the mouth of the 
 Teton, or Bad River. Once they got above the 
 
 80 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 8i 
 
 mouth of the James the boating would be easier 
 than on the lower river. 
 
 Lander was decided to stick to the boat as the 
 long reaches of the mighty stream fascinated him. 
 In the fall of the previous year Kenneth McKen- 
 zie, the greatest trader ever employed by the 
 A'. F. C, whose name will always be associated 
 with the Upper Missouri outfit stationed at Fort 
 Union above the Yellowstone, wrote to the New 
 York headquarters of the company that the 
 steamboat "would permit of their keeping their 
 men in the Indian country and paying the greater 
 part of their wages in merchandise instead of in 
 cash." In other words the company planned to 
 pay wages in merchandise at three and four hun- 
 dred per cent, advance on the cost. Lander had 
 heard this plan talked over at the store and might 
 have hesitated to go up-river as an engage for the 
 company. But going by boat up-river to Fort 
 Pierre and ultimately joining Bridger in the 
 mountains was a different proposition and his 
 soul kindled to it. 
 
 Could he have but known it Lander was two 
 years inside the beginning of that period of inva- 
 sion of the great trans-Mississippi territory. Of 
 course there had been journeyings to the moun- 
 
S2 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 tains and back and several government explor- 
 ing parties prior to 1829. There also had grown 
 up a brisk trade with Santa Fe. But the epoch of 
 great travel was made possible by the coming of 
 steam to the Missouri as a permanent factor in 
 1829. 
 
 The New Englanders required two hundred 
 years to reach the Mississippi. Even at that 
 they passed through immense areas without paus- 
 ing to explore thoroughly, let alone settle them. 
 Yet within eighteen years from the morning Lan- 
 der rode his borrowed mule into sleepy St. 
 Charles, the steamboat on the Missouri was to be 
 responsible for a quarter of a million square miles 
 of the Oregon country being settled. Within the 
 same period more than half a million square miles 
 were to be sliced off from Mexico, with Ameri- 
 cans occupying a thousand miles of the Pacific 
 coast. This expansion was even to surpass the 
 overnmning of Europe by eastern hordes. 
 
 Lander tarried by the boat although the moun- 
 tain men and boatmen were camped near by. 
 Two thoughts now popped into his mind, and 
 neither had to do with migrations: his love for 
 Susette and a commercial inspiration. Although 
 a mountain man only in embryo he had no vision 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 83 
 
 of a mighty people flooding the West. If he 
 became a mountain man a settled condition would 
 be the last destiny he would wish for his country. 
 Trappers were one with the Indians in wishing 
 the land to remain as it was with wild life flour- 
 ishing and multiplying. 
 
 Lander thought tenderly of Susette, then 
 jumped from his mule to examine the keelboat 
 more critically and to wonder why such craft 
 must be made in Cincinnati, Louisville or Pitts- 
 burgh. It now came home to him that had he not 
 mixed up in the duel and killed his man he might 
 have secured a little capital and from his own 
 "navy yard'' turned out keelboats and taken a 
 rare profit. 
 
 "But if not for the fight I'd probably hung 
 round town, somebody's hired man," he morosely 
 told himself as he led his mule over the slight 
 ridge to where Bridger's men were camped. 
 
 A chorus of yells accelerated his pace and he 
 soon beheld some twenty men singing and danc- 
 ing around their morning fires while nearly as 
 many more were crawling from their blankets 
 and cursing the hilarity of their mates. A slim, 
 wiry-built man walked among them, counting off 
 on his fingers to check them up. 
 
84 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Where is Long Simons? Is the fool still in 
 St. Louis? Then he stays there, and we shall 
 have to elect a new bully for this trip," remarked 
 the slim man. 
 
 "Bah! That Long Simons don't rare on his 
 hind-legs when I go by," growled a big hulk of a 
 fellow. 
 
 "Ye never did go fo' to give him no battle, 
 Porker," drawled a lazy southern voice, and a 
 young man with deep marks of dissipation on his 
 face raised himself from his blankets and threw 
 back his long black hair. 
 
 "I'll give ye a battle, ye whelp !" roared Porker, 
 rushing at the prostrate youth. 
 
 The other came to his feet like a cat, a knife 
 flashing in his hand, his white teeth gleaming 
 wolfishly. 
 
 "Hold, hold! T, Etienne Prevost, will shoot 
 the man who makes the first move." And Lan- 
 der knew he was gazing at a celebrated mountain 
 man, one of the galaxy w^hich had graduated 
 under 'Ashley while a mere youth. "You shall all 
 have a chance to show your mettle. We'll settle 
 the question before we start. The red belt is in 
 my pack ; but no knife-play. Hunter, put up that 
 knife.'' 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 85 
 
 "Go to ' !" snarled Hunter, bending half 
 
 double and beginning to circle about the mighty 
 Porker who now showed signs of fear. 
 
 "Put up that knife, you fool! Haven't you 
 sweat the rum out of you yet?" cried Prevost. 
 
 With a snarl Hunter ducked forward. Porker 
 turned to run and secure a weapon and sprawled 
 on his face. Hunter was astride of him in a sec- 
 ond with the knife raised. Lander felt his 
 stomach revolting at the sight of murder all but 
 committed. Then Prevost fired, and with a yelp 
 of pain and rage Hunter tottered to his feet, 
 clasping his right wrist. 
 
 "Go back to St. Louis, you trouble-maker. Go 
 join the A. F. C. We don't want you," coldly 
 advised Prevost as he began reloading his pistol. 
 
 "Etienne Prevost, I'll kill you for this," 
 screamed Hunter. 
 
 "Mebbe. But go back to St. Louis and w^ait 
 for your broken wrist to mend. If you will come 
 with me I'll fix it up until you can get treated in 
 town." 
 
 "If I step aside with you it'll be fo' to knife you 
 with my left hand," gritted Hunter, tying his 
 handkerchief around his neck for a sling and 
 walking away. 
 
86 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Good riddance!" growled Prevost. Then he 
 turned and beheld Lander staring wide-eyed on 
 the scene. 
 
 "Who are you? What do you want?" Pre- 
 vost roughly demanded, walking up to him and 
 surveying him sharply. "You don't belong to 
 this outfit." 
 
 "Mr. Bridger sent me here to join it," 
 explained Lander. "Said I could go with the 
 boat or with the land party at Lexington." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 Lander told him and added that he had been 
 employed by the A. F. C. until the day before. 
 
 "If Jim Bridger knew that he never would 'a' 
 sent you. We don't want any A. F. C. spies with 
 us." 
 
 The men began crowding forward ominously. 
 One man suggested they duck him in the river. 
 Another advised tying him to his mule and driv- 
 ing the animal into the river. Lander laid his 
 rifle across the saddle and reaching down pulled 
 his knife from his boot. 
 
 "I may not be very welcome here," he said. 
 "But some one is going to get killed before I'm 
 "ducked or tied to any mule." 
 
 Porker, who now recovered something of his 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES ^7 
 
 former aplomb and fearing he had lost caste 
 because of his mishap with Hunter, swaggered 
 forward with a camp-ax in his hand and loudly 
 called out : 
 
 "Ev'ry one step aside. I'll cut this young roos- 
 ter's comb. . . .Gawdfreyl" 
 
 He came to an abrupt halt and rubbed his chin 
 and grinned foolishly. To Prevost he explained : 
 
 "This hyar younker is th' one what did for Mai 
 Phinny of th' A. F. C. outfit. Killed him las' 
 night in a fight on Bloody Island. All St. Louis 
 heard about it just as I was leavin' Tilton's bar 
 to git here on time." 
 
 "Then he done a mighty good job. Wish he'd 
 done for ol' Parker," shouted one of the men, 
 relaxing into a peaceful attitude. "If ye done 
 that Malcom skunk ye needn't bother to keep yer 
 gun p'inted this way, Mister Doolest." 
 
 "Jim Bridger know about the fight?" inquired 
 Prevost, his voice shading off into courtesy. 
 
 "He gave the word for us to fire," replied 
 Lander without shifting his rifle or relaxing his 
 watchfulness. 
 
 "Then we've had enough of this hoss-play," 
 said Prevost. "S'long as Bridger sent you, then 
 you must belong. But I want to say right now 
 
88 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 that there's altogether too much cock-a-doodle- 
 dooing here to suit me. I reckon you all need to 
 be blooded a bit. I ain't heard nothing for forty- 
 eight hours except fighting talk. WeVe just 
 about time to settle this business before the steam- 
 boat gits here. One of you is best man and is to 
 carry the pipe and wear the bully's red belt. 
 Hurry up and put your weapons one side. Keel- 
 boat style, except biting and eye-gouging. Every 
 man who's shot off his yawp is going to be licked 
 or be a champion." 
 
 Lander restored the knife to his boot, dropped 
 the rifle in the hollow of his arm and said : 
 
 "You can count me out. I ain't any hankering 
 to wear your red belt." 
 
 "You'll fight when it comes your turn," Pre- 
 vost coldly warned. "I never started for the 
 mountains yet without first gitting all the bile out 
 of a man's system. And you're too quick to stand 
 folks off with guns and knives. Right now, 
 before the steamer comes, we're going to decide 
 who's who for this whole trip. Porker, seeing 
 as you're 'lowed to be champion in place of Long 
 Simons " 
 
 "Whoopee!" bawled a heavy voice back in the 
 village street. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 89 
 
 The group turned and beheld a rangy-built man 
 riding toward them on a vicious-looking mule. 
 The newcomer waved his arms and loudly 
 announced : 
 
 "Here I be. More 'gator than man. Strong- 
 er'n a buf'ler in a pushin* match. Hungry as a 
 grizzly for a huggin' match. I've got panther 
 blood in my body, an' th' teeth of a mountain 
 lion. IVe come to hurt somebody powerful bad. 
 I wore th' red belt to th' mountains on th' last 
 trip, an' I'll wear it again." 
 
 Porker stared at him vmeasily, then brightened 
 as he observed the champion was swerving from 
 side to side as if half drunk. 
 
 "So you did manage to make it, eh ?" growled 
 Prevost. "A little more and it would have been 
 your last trip with the Rocky; Mountain Fur 
 outfit." 
 
 ",Ye couldn't keep me back any more'n yer bare 
 hands could hold a buf'ler bull back from water," 
 drunkenly boasted Long Simons, dismounting 
 and standing unsteadily. "I'd 'a' been here 
 sooner but I met Hunter who'd had trouble with 
 his arm. Stopped to fix his sling for him. He 
 hit for St. Louis, leavin' a trail o' brimstun an' 
 sulfur behind him. Boss, don't tell me th' red 
 
90 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 belt's been fit for an' won. If it has I'll scruncfi 
 th' man that has it." 
 
 "You're in time," snapped Prevost. "That's 
 more'n I can say of your condition." 
 
 He then counted the men and found the tally 
 satisfactory. The question of physical superiority 
 was usually settled and the red belt awarded at 
 the start of the trip. This absorbed the fighting 
 spirit of the men and allowed them to stick to 
 their work without bickerings. With Prevost 
 these annual battles meant more efficiency during 
 the long trip to the mountains and back, a sort of 
 clearing-house for distemper and private feuds. 
 Glancing over the company he said : 
 
 "As it seems to lay betw^een Long Simons and 
 Porker you other boys can git ready and find out 
 who's the tw^o best among you. Hurry it along. 
 [A^ny feller showing the white feather will be 
 booted into the river. All belts and weapons back 
 there by my tent. No biting or eye-digging. No 
 bone-breaking after a man's beat." 
 
 Lander had heard of these contests but Had 
 never been brought face to face with the facts. 
 His eyes opened widely as two men clinched the 
 minute Prevost ceased speaking and rolled over 
 the grass fighting like tiger cats. Obviously 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 91 
 
 there was bad blood between the two and they had 
 waited hungrily until the boss gave the word; 
 now fought to hurt, to maim, all but to kill. 
 
 Lander had seen street fights in St. Louis but 
 none that were so cold-bloodedly ferocious as 
 this. It impressed him as being more deadly than 
 an exchange of shots on Bloody Island. As he 
 followed the wheel of legs and arms another 
 couple fell to. 
 
 In this abrupt fashion, with no preliminaries to 
 gloss the proceedings, those men who had antipa- 
 thies to settle immediately came to blows and 
 clinches. Then more slowly followed those who 
 had no grievances to settle. Once committed to 
 battle the latter quickly discovered their blood 
 was hot and responded to the primitive lust. 
 
 Inside of ten minutes only Prevost, Long 
 Simons, Porker and Lander were left standing. 
 It was brutal work. Prevost glided among the 
 combatants, pulling one off his man to prevent 
 murder, urging another to a greater resistance, 
 kicking a jaw that was endeavoring to bite into a 
 bronzed neck, stabilizing the melee so his loss of 
 man-power would be the minimum and involve 
 nothing more serious than a broken bone. 
 
 After twenty minutes the defeated were crawl- 
 
92 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 ing or staggering to the river to wash their 
 wounds, and the victors were panting and eying 
 one another wolfishly. 
 
 "Ten minutes' rest, then you what's left double 
 up and go at it," ruled Prevost. 
 
 "I'll take on this new feller," spoke up one of 
 the victors, and he leered malevolently at Lander. 
 
 "He's your meat," promptly ruled Prevost. 
 "First come, first served." It was an old game 
 for him, this umpiring of forty fighting men all 
 in action at the same time. He supervised it with 
 the same precision and unconcern he would ex- 
 hibit in tying up a pack of beaver. 
 
 "But I don't hanker to figure as a champion," 
 said Lander. 
 
 "Ye won't be no champion, or anywhere near 
 it," chuckled the man who had challenged him. 
 "Don't ye fret any." 
 
 Prevost's thin face wrinkled in disgust as he 
 turned on Lander. 
 
 "If that's your style, if you're afeared of a lit- 
 tle scrimmage among your friends, you ain't no 
 man to go into the Blackfoot country, not even if 
 Jim Bridger did send you," he grunted. "Hook 
 on to Rummy there or hit the trail for St. Louis." 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 93 
 
 Lander felt a sudden rage boiling up in his 
 heart against the leering Rummy. The brutality 
 of the spectacle coming on top of the duel and the 
 night's hard ride had sapped his fighting spirit. 
 But Prevost's disdain was a spur that dug him 
 cruelly. While the time-honored custom of fight- 
 ing the fight out of the men was a sound one he 
 could not see how it should apply to him, a 
 stranger, who had evidenced no desire to bully 
 any one. 
 
 "Time's up ! Make it sharp !" ordered Prevost. 
 
 The man called Rummy grinned exultingly, 
 revealing several blanks where front teeth had 
 been, and dived into Lander before the latter 
 could set himself. At first Lander was propelled 
 backward and with difficulty kept his feet. Pre- 
 vost watched him with contempt. Then he 
 caught his balance, dug a heel into the sward and 
 brought Rummy's rush to an abrupt halt. The 
 man instantly shifted his hold and had him by the 
 throat. Almost as quick Lander's two hands shot 
 up inside his opponent's arms and with an out- 
 ward fling easily broke the hold and began ham- 
 mering his man unmercifully. 
 
 Rummy had scant knowledge of fisticuffs and, 
 like most of his mates, depended on close quar- 
 
94 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 ters for success, his technique consisting of kick- 
 ing, choking and bone-breaking. 
 
 With a terrific smack Lander's left caught him 
 between the eyes and jolted the thick head back. 
 Rummy grunted and shook his head and gamely 
 bored in again. 
 
 With a swinging upper-cut Lander's right went 
 to his jaw, straightening him out in the air. 
 When he struck the turf he remained very quiet. 
 
 "This is all foolishness!" Lander fumed at 
 Prevost. 
 
 Prevost smiled crookedly, his eyes twinkling. 
 
 "It's the kind of foolishness that keeps you 
 from digging back to St. Louis where they might 
 make it hot for you along of what you done to a' 
 A. F. C. man," he said. 
 
 There had been five couples in the last bout, 
 and Lander and his man had been the first to 
 finish. 
 
 "Pretty nifty work, younker," chuckled Long 
 Simons. "But ye can pound my head all day 
 v/ithout botherin' me any, less ye git so tarnal 
 careless as to bust my pipe. Then I would git 
 mad." 
 
 Prevost leaped among the fighters and pulled 
 a couple apart and warned : 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 95 
 
 "That's enough. You two been chewing each 
 other. If I see any more biting I'll spoil the 
 biter's teeth for good." 
 
 The two got to their feet, both claiming the vic- 
 tory. Prevost motioned them to retire, saying, 
 "Neither of you is any good." Turning to the 
 remaining three couples he soon had the winners 
 standing apart ; these with Lander made four sur- 
 vivors from the mill. 
 
 "Send 'em along. I'm gittin' sleepy from 
 waitin'," growled Porker. 
 
 "Ye big hog!" snorted Long Simons. "Want 
 to fight 'em when they can't toddle ? Mister Pre- 
 vost, some of 'em oughter be matched ag'in' us 
 two now afore they git any tireder." 
 
 "Shut up," snapped Prevost. Then to the four 
 men : "Match up. The winners go against Porker 
 and Simons." 
 
 "I'll take this A. F. C. killer," promptly spoke 
 up a man with long sandy mustaches and light 
 blue eyes. The other two instantly fell upon each 
 other. 
 
 Lander's challenger stepped backward, saying: 
 
 "Let's have plenty of room to operate in, young 
 feller. Seein' as how ye fight a new-fangled way 
 I don't want to be crowded." 
 
96 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Lander felt no hostility toward this chap. The 
 sandy hair and blue eyes and grinning mouth sug- 
 gested good nature. He held his hands ready to 
 foil a rush, and as Prevost became busy over- 
 seeing the other couple he took time to murmur : 
 
 *'D'ye want to fight that Porker or Long 
 Simons ?" 
 
 *T'll fight anything/' coldly answered Lander, 
 striking a pawing hand aside. 
 
 ''Wal, I won't." The confession was accom- 
 panied by a chuckle. "So ye needn't be hoggish 
 in mountin' me, for ye're goin' to win mighty 
 easy." 
 
 As he said this he deftly secured a grip on Lan- 
 der's right wrist, dodged a drive of the left, and 
 closed in. With both arms about Lander's waist 
 and his head burrowing into his chest he pro- 
 ceeded to give a demonstration of striving to lift 
 Lander off his feet. For a few moments Lander 
 feared being thrown and struggled viciously, 
 using his left against the head with short-armed 
 jabs. 
 
 "What'n 3^e tryin' to do ?" came the muf- 
 fled query. "Tryin' to git me mad? I ain't 
 hurtin' ye any, be I ?" 
 
 Then Lander realized his opponent was con- 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 97 
 
 tent to cling to him. With a sour grin Lander 
 accepted the proposition and displayed great 
 activity in swirling about. Once they went down 
 with Lander underneath, but the other dexter- 
 ously threw himself on his side, and with a spurt 
 of strength pulled Lander on top. Then with a 
 groan he relaxed his hold and lay still. 
 
 Lander got to his feet and stared in dismay. 
 He had played the other fellow's game, yet by 
 some accident the man was unconscious, or worse. 
 Picking up a camp kettle Lander ran to the river 
 and brought water and doused it over the silent 
 figure. 
 
 "Young man, you git 'em quick. No doubt 
 about that," called out Prevost. 
 
 Lander threw more water. With the celerity 
 of a Jack-in-the-box the man bobbed to a sitting 
 posture and cunningly winked an eye. In deep 
 relief Lander dropped the kettle. Prevost was 
 calling out : 
 
 "New man wins. Perkins wins. Rest up and 
 go against Simons and Porker." 
 
 Lander was still fresh, but for the sake of the 
 quitter's good name he simulated fatigue and 
 took time to study Porker. The man was so 
 named because of his bulk. To grapple with him 
 
98 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 would be useless as the man's sheer weight would 
 carry any ordinary antagonist down to defeat. 
 Nor did Lander believe his sturdiest blows could 
 register any effect on the round, shaggy head. 
 He eyed the waistline speculatively. That man's 
 abdomen was laced with muscles built up during 
 long mountain trips. So far as Lander could per- 
 ceive there was no vulnerable point, neither jaw 
 nor wind. But because of the man's height he 
 decided to play for the wind. 
 
 "Do you feel fit?" Prevost kindly inquired 
 after ten minutes had elapsed. 
 
 Lander nodded and stepped quickly forward to 
 meet Porker. The latter eyed him sardonically 
 and waited for him to come within reach, and 
 then flung out his flail of a hand. Lander passed 
 under it and drove his right into the pit of the 
 bully's stomach, and as he delivered the blow he 
 realized he was adapting the pose of a knife- 
 fighter, and he remembered Papa Clair's parting 
 advice to "keep behind the point." 
 
 The blow resounded loudly and drove a grunt 
 from Porker. Some of the men set up a cheer 
 but Lander felt the resilient muscles give and 
 come back under his fist and knew that mode of 
 attack was as useless as to beat a buffalo with the 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 99 
 
 bare hands. He was out of reach of the long 
 arms and circling about for another jab almost 
 before Porker knew he had been hit. 
 
 Porker's eyes grew lurid. His pride was hurt. 
 
 "Ye bug!" he roared. "Tryin' to make fun o' 
 me, eh? Wal, I'll Tarn ye from childhood up.'' 
 
 Simons had his man tucked comfortably away 
 under one arm and was refraining from inflict- 
 ing punishment. A wide grin cracked his face as 
 he watched Lander. 
 
 "All he makes me think of is a knife-fighter," 
 he bawled out, "an' he do make me think o' that 
 most dingly. Hit him ag'in, ye weasel! Give 
 him one in th' snoot!" 
 
 Lander maneuvered warily, his left hand out at 
 one side, his right hand advanced with the elbow 
 almost touching the hip. Porker lurched toward 
 him, vilely berating him for running away after 
 "takin' a man by s'prise." Lander evaded the 
 clawing hands and sent his right under the chin 
 just as he would have lunged with the point, with 
 his whole body behind the blow. The massive 
 jaw might be impervious to the bare fist, just as 
 the strongly muscled abdomen could ignore any- 
 thing short of a mule's kick, but as he happened 
 
loo KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 to be holding his tongue between his teeth he bit 
 it cruelly. 
 
 "Curse you!" he roared, spitting blood and 
 rushing frantically to grapple his tormentor. 
 
 "Bully for ye, younker! Bleed him some 
 more! Lawd, a big fool like that lettin' a child 
 lick him !" howled Long Simons, shaking his man 
 up and down in a paroxysm of joy. 
 
 "Wait'll I git my hooks into ye!" snarled 
 Porker. 
 
 Lander swung both fists, the double smack 
 landing on nose and eye. The nose began to 
 bleed and the eye grew puffy. 
 
 "Haw haw ! I'm waitin' !" yelled Simons, let- 
 ting his man drop to the ground and crawl away 
 while he pounded his huge hands together in 
 delight. 
 
 "Good fighting!" applauded Prevost. 
 
 But the contest was too unequal to continue in 
 Lander's favor. His agility and audacity in tak- 
 ing the fight to Porker had dazed the bully and 
 won a temporary advantage. He had a theory of 
 offense that might have worked out successfully 
 could he have kept clear of the madly swinging 
 arms. The braw^ny throat was sensitive, he con- 
 cluded. He proved it by leaping forward and 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES loi 
 
 landing a stiff jab. No great damage was done 
 yet Porker was taken with a fit of coughing, and 
 could Lander have hammered in more blows on 
 the throat it is possible he would have downed 
 his man. 
 
 Porker now threw all discretion aside and 
 rushed at his nimble adversary with the ferocity 
 of a mad bull, swinging his long arms and pon- 
 derous fists in a thoroughly unscientific manner. 
 It was useless to guard against such an onslaught. 
 For a minute or two Lander ducked and dodged 
 or slipped away, with no opportunity to take the 
 offensive. Then he caught a buffet on the head 
 that knocked him violently on to his back, the 
 wind driven from his body. With a howl of tri- 
 umph Porker jumped forward to stamp on him. 
 
 Prevost's pistol cracked and the lead fanned 
 the infuriated man's face, and the leader's voice 
 was warning: "Through your thick skull. 
 Porker, if you don't pull up." 
 
 "He's my meat," gasped Porker, turning his 
 bloody visage toward Prevost. 
 
 "I'll shoot you and stick you in a tree to dry if 
 you don't come away. You won the fight. 
 That's all." 
 
 "But he blooded me," protested Porker. 
 
102 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Shucks ! It ain't nothin' to what Fm goin' to 
 do with ye once ye git over pumpin' for wind," 
 bellowed Long Simons, lounging nearer, his ham- 
 like hands held before him, half closed like a 
 gorilla's, his huge shoulders sagging and rising. 
 
 With a husky bleat Porker turned to clinch 
 him, but Simons waved him back, warning: 
 
 "Take yer time. Ye'll need lots of wind to 
 buck ag'in' me. Git yer breath. I don't want no 
 one sayin' I ran foul o' ye while ye was tuckered 
 out. I've heard th' talk ye've been makin' an' I'm 
 goin' to make ye eat yer words. This row atween 
 ye 'n' me is goin' to be a real fight, I reckon." 
 
 Calmed by his realization of the desperate 
 game ahead of him, and disquieted by observing 
 that Simons seemed to have sobered off quite 
 thoroughly, Porker walked to the river bank and 
 splashed the cold water over his head and shoul- 
 ders. Prevost helped Lander sit up and the 
 sandy-haired chap who had quit brought water 
 and bathed his head. For a minute Lander could 
 not identify himself and stared foolishly at the 
 rough men and wondered why they were so 
 bruised and battered. They grinned at him sym- 
 pathetically, and by degrees the details of the 
 fi2:ht came back to him. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 103 
 
 Long Simons came up, his hairy face suggest- 
 ing a grizzly bear learning to smile, and 
 endorsed : 
 
 "Younker, yer shore some game-cock. When 
 ye grow up ye' 11 be some fighter. Shake !" 
 
 Lander gave a limp hand, then glimpsed 
 Porker reclining in the grass and hotly declared : 
 
 "I can kill him with a knife inside of sixty 
 seconds." 
 
 "Did you kill Phinny with a knife?" dryly 
 asked Prevost. 
 
 "With a pistol," w^as the faint answer ; and the 
 lust to kill deserted him. 
 
 "Being such a master hand for blood-lettin' 
 you'll do fine to let loose in the Blackfoot coun- 
 try butcher-shop when we git there," Prevost 
 ironically observed. "You also could murder 
 Porker with a gun. You don't seem to under- 
 stand that this is a friendly fight to see who shall 
 wear the red belt. All bad blood is s'posed to be 
 spilled right here. If you go to the mountains 
 with me I don't want to hear any more threats 
 against any of my men. Not even if you was Jim 
 Bridger's brother." 
 
 Lander burned hotly under the rebuke. He 
 recognized the justice of it and apologized. 
 
I04 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "That crack over the head made me see red. 
 I'm not looking to fight any one with a knife. I 
 told you I didn't want to fight any of the men. I 
 knew Porker would best me when I went against 
 him. I just tried to make it a good one while it 
 lasted." 
 
 "Said handsome enough to suit a Quaker," 
 chuckled Prevost. "And you made it a good one 
 and plenty more .... Hi, Porker ! How's the 
 breathing?" 
 
 "Good!" growled Porker, clambering to his 
 feet and pulling off his buckskin shirt and stand- 
 ing forth a hairy behemoth of a man. "An' if 
 that child 'lows his little dancin' lesson with me 
 was a good fight jest let him watch me chaw up 
 Long Simons as easy as a 'gator chaws a puppy." 
 
 "Ye'd feel a heap better, Porky, if yer heart 
 was ahind them bold words," said Long Simons 
 laughingly as he peeled to the buff. "Now I'm 
 comin' to make a call on ye." 
 
 "Th' latch-string is out!" 
 
 With monstrous impact they crashed together; 
 and Lander forgot his aching head in watching 
 the two Titans. Their barrel-like chests came 
 together until it did not seem that bone and sinew 
 could withstand the shock. Then they secured 
 
'Jf^ml 
 
 With monstrous impact they came together. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 105 
 
 grips and scarcely moving their feet began strain- 
 ing and lifting and pulling, seeking an advan- 
 tage whereby an arm would snap or a muscle tear 
 loose. They were primitive forces, eschewing 
 all man-made rules except the embargo laid down 
 by Prevost. 
 
 The boss watched them anxiously, fearful of 
 losing the services of one, and yet knowing the 
 two must fight it out now or be fighting later on, 
 and fighting perhaps with something besides 
 their bare strength. 
 
 Evenly matched in weight and seemingly of 
 equal strength and experience, there seemed no 
 choice between them at first. But as they slowly 
 revolved about and Lander sawr the wide, con- 
 tented grin on Simon's face and the deep scowl 
 on Porker's brow he wisely suspected the former 
 was very confident and that the latter was much 
 worried. At that, within the first minute Porker 
 got his man at a decided disadvantage, and had 
 he not lusted too prematurely to end It then and 
 there he might have scored a triumph. But he 
 worked too hard and fast and within another 
 minute the odds vanished and they were breast to 
 breast again. 
 
 The struggle both sickened and fascinated Lan- 
 
io6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 der. On the faces of the other men he beheld 
 only a breathless interest. Observing the expres- 
 sion on Lander's face Prevost smiled grimly and 
 said: 
 
 "The man who has the guts to go after beaver 
 where we're going looks on this rassling as just 
 play. You think they'll kill each other. No such 
 thing. They'll maul and pound each other, and 
 if I wasn't here they'd bite and claw each other. 
 Worst that can come of it is a bu'sted leg or arm, 
 and one of them out of it for the season. That's 
 all that worries me." 
 
 He was interrupted by a mighty spank! 
 Porker had loosed a hand and had dealt Long 
 Simons a terrific clout on the head. Simons' 
 head rocked back, and Porker, with visions of a 
 clear title to the red belt, gave a whoop and 
 sought to follow up his advantage. Then Simons' 
 apish arms closed about him. 
 
 There followed a convulsive struggle. Porker 
 tearing at his opponent's bearded face to force 
 him to release his crushing hold. Then a moment 
 of weakening, and Porker found himself over his 
 opponent's hip. The next moment he crashed 
 headlong to the ground and lay there insensible. 
 
 Throwing back his shoulders Long Simons 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULLIES 107 
 
 flapped his arms and sounded the cock's crow of 
 triumph. Prevost examined the unconscious 
 man, then curtly announced: 
 
 "He'll do. Nothing broken. The red belt is 
 yours for another trip, Simons. That is, unless 
 this newcomer wants a try for it.*' 
 
 He pointed toward the village, where a man 
 on a mule was quitting the street to ride toward 
 the camp. 
 
 "Papa Clair!'' cried Lander. "Lord! What 
 does he want here? And riding so fast." And 
 a nameless chill gripped his heart as he watched 
 the old man flog the mule to greater efforts. 
 
 "There comes th' steamboat! See her smoke 
 below th' bend !" excitedly yelled Rummy. 
 
Chapter V 
 
 PINAUD,, THE HUNTER 
 
 X S Papa Clair rode he kept his head turned to 
 *^ watch the smoke below the bend. Prevost 
 remarked that it "looked like a race with the 
 steamboat, with the mule a winner." 
 
 "It's something about me," said Lander un- 
 easily. "Probably about my duel with Phinny." 
 
 "Then the boat has something to do with it," 
 said Prevost. "Clair has come hard and fast to 
 beat it out. The A. F. C. may be sending to 
 catch you." 
 
 "Can they take me here?" Lander anxiously 
 inquired. 
 
 "If they're strong enough. But if they've 
 come to take you it ain't because you fought a 
 duel. Duels are natural as sleep. It's 'cause you 
 wiped out a' A. F. C. man who was a friend of 
 old Hurry-Up Parker. Now we'll know." 
 
 The last as Papa Clair's mule came to a stag- 
 io8 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 109 
 
 gering halt a hundred yards away. Clair was 
 afoot with the quickness of a cat and running 
 toward the curious group. 
 
 "My friend/' he called out on beholding Lan- 
 der. "Holy blue! What has happened to you? 
 You have the bruise, the scratch ! Your raiment 
 is torn." 
 
 "Nothing, nothing, Papa Clair. What brings 
 you here ?" replied Lander. 
 
 "Imbecile that I am! Armed men are on the 
 boat to get you. We must ride at once." 
 
 "How many ? I reckon we can stand them off," 
 spoke up Prevost. 
 
 "No, no. There must be no trouble between 
 the A. F. C. and the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
 pany — at least, not in Missouri. We must go. 
 You must know nothing about us. And we must 
 ride quick!" 
 
 "Then you must have a fresh mule, Etienne 
 Clair," said Prevost. 
 
 "A thousand thanks for the same, M'sieu 
 Prevost." 
 
 "Simons, rush up two mules," was the sharp 
 order. 
 
 The champion did as bid but remonstrated: 
 
 "No need o' runnin'. If thar's any trouble 
 
no KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 along o' that boat I reckon we can smooth it 
 down.'* 
 
 "At Lexington, but not here at St. Charles. 
 Put him on the trail for Lexington, Papa. He 
 can follow the river close enough to see when the 
 boat has passed. He can hold back when he 
 reaches Lexington until sure the steamer has gone 
 and the men with it. If the men stay with us to 
 trap him I'll send some one down the trail to warn 
 him. Now be off. She'll be poking her head 
 round the bend in another minute." 
 
 With his mind in a whirl Lander took his rifle, 
 mounted the mule and followed Papa Clair up the 
 river, keeping under cover of a fringe of cotton- 
 woods and willows. The two men covered some 
 five or six miles, exchanging scarcely a word. 
 Then Clair pulled up on the edge of a wooded 
 terrace that gave a view of the river and quietly 
 remarked : 
 
 "Now to wait for the steamer to go by. 
 Fumez la pipe. The men on the boat must stick 
 to the boat as they haven't any horses or mules 
 and Prevost won't lend them any." 
 
 "What does it all mean?" demanded Lander. 
 
 "It was after I left you, my friend. I did not 
 feel to sleep," Papa Clair began, speaking be- 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER iii 
 
 tween puffs as his pipe balked a bit. "I walked 
 down to the levee, thinking that perhaps some of 
 your visitors would be waiting to get their satisfy 
 from me. I heard a man say the Golden Queen 
 would start at three o'clock. I found the boat and 
 watched the freight go aboard. Steam was up. 
 They would be leaving soon. Then as I stood 
 behind a pile of barrels armed men passed 
 through the light of the basket-torch. They were 
 not trappers nor traders. I recognized Dillings 
 among them. I knew it meant mischief. 
 
 *T stole close to the guards and heard talk. 
 They spoke of you. One said they would be sure 
 to pick you up at St. Charles, that they must get 
 you before you got out of the state. That was 
 enough for me. I went to the Parker house on 
 Pine Street and woke a negro in back and gave 
 him money and your letter ; and I told him to give 
 it to wi'm'selle early in the morning and to let no 
 one see him. Then I placed my knife at his 
 throat and promised to come back and cut off his 
 head if he failed to do as I told him. He said he 
 would sit up all night to be sure to give it to her 
 early. Then to my room, then a mule, and here 
 are. 
 'You've come far enough out of your way, 
 
112 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Papa. After the boat passes you must start 
 back," said Lander with a sigh in his voice. 
 
 "Name of heaven! Go back and leave you to be 
 captured perhaps at Lexington? You slander 
 mer 
 
 "Bridger's men won't let them take me." 
 
 "They will have a writing from the court. If 
 Bridger stops them, then the A. F. C. will make 
 it warm for his company, perhaps try to take 
 away his license. No, no! We must not let 
 M'sieu Bridger have trouble over it." 
 
 "I'd rather have you with me than a thousand 
 mountain men, but it's my trouble." 
 
 "I am here, Etienne Clair. I went to my room 
 and brought this." He held up a long heavy 
 package securely wrapped in buckskin. "I have 
 come to stay. Not only to Lexington, eight days 
 away, but to the mountains. By the grace of 
 God I will see what truth there is in the cook- 
 ing-springs and caves of war-paint. See these!" 
 
 He unwrapped the package and disclosed three 
 long scabbards, one of his dearly beloved knives 
 in each. With the one in his boot he had four. 
 He proceeded to fasten the three blades to his 
 belt, saying as he did so : 
 
 "They are all I had to bring. They would 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 113 
 
 have wept Had I left them behind. Had I taken 
 one the other three would have been jealous. 
 Ah, they are very sensitive, these little ones of 
 mine. See how bright the blade shines because 
 it goes to the fountain !" 
 
 He pulled a knife and held it up to mirror the 
 sun. 
 
 Immensely heartened by his friend's presence 
 Lander did not have the courage to insist on the 
 old man's returning. He had been homesick 
 without knowing what was the matter with him. 
 The girl tugged at his heart and kept his 
 thoughts turned to St. Louis. The mountain men 
 were all strangers and exceedingly rough in their 
 ways. He did not fear physical danger, but the 
 fighting and carousing sickened him. 
 
 "I ought not to admit it," he mused. "Yet I 
 was feeling very lonesome until you came." 
 
 With a rare smile lighting his wrinkled face 
 Papa Clair replied : 
 
 "It is very good of m'sieu to allow. Now to 
 business. We brought no supplies. Take your 
 rifle and scout the bottoms. I will see if can find 
 M'sieu Rabbit or Madame Turkey." 
 
 They hitched their mules and separated, Papa 
 Clair taking only his knives. 
 
114 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 On rejoining each other thirty minutes later 
 Lander held up his empty hands and looked his 
 disgust. Papa Clair held up a turkey he had 
 killed with his knife. 
 
 Having eaten and saved what was left of the 
 turkey they resumed their flight. Their back 
 trail concerned them none as they knew the men 
 would not attempt to follow them afoot. They 
 progressed leisurely, thinking to hold back until 
 the boat passed them. As it was impracticable 
 to follow the river closely, owing to the high 
 water, they were continually riding across the 
 bends, making their mileage much less than that 
 of the boat. At times they drew back a consider- 
 able distance from the river and could not know 
 whether or not the boat had passed in the mean- 
 time. 
 
 For two days they advanced to glimpse the 
 broad and muddy stream and as often retreated, 
 or were driven back by natural obstacles, without 
 sighting the Golden Queen. Lander was con- 
 vinced the boat was ahead of them. Papa Clair, 
 observing the unusual number of snags and drift 
 in the river, and knowing the boat would not at- 
 tempt to run after dark, shook his head. 
 
 On the third day they started late and crossed 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 115 
 
 a deep bend. They approached the river along 
 some low bluffs and were able to draw close to the 
 river. They were out of food and had eaten 
 nothing since the noon before. 
 
 As they stood and stared out on the mighty 
 desolation Lander forgot his hunger. It was his 
 first trip up the Missouri. Here was a primitive 
 monster eternally gnawing away at the banks, 
 swallowing acres at a mouthful, writhing back 
 and forth and forever shifting its serpentine 
 course. The implacable waters were dotted 
 thickly with drifting trees, fresh victims to its 
 insatiate hunger, and ancient wreckage discarded 
 in past seasons and now retrieved briefly to serve 
 as a plaything. 
 
 Inshore were many deadly snags and sawyers. 
 One of the latter, almost below them, deceived 
 Lander at first into beHeving it was some aquatic 
 monster. It raised its ragged spear of a trunk 
 under the impulse of the current, then furtively 
 sank from sight. A count of ten and it cau- 
 tiously appeared, then vanished. Papa Clair 
 smiled and briefly named it. 
 
 "Lord ! But it does seem as if it knew what it's 
 about," said Lander. 
 
 "They are worse than snags," said Papa. 
 
ii6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Take one that saws up and down more slowly 
 and a steamer at the bend will see clear water and 
 have time to get above it before it comes up. 
 Then, peste! It rips out the bottom." 
 
 Regardless of snags and sawyers the steam- 
 boat faced two big problems — food and huge 
 amounts of fuel. It was the need of the latter 
 that nearly led the two fugitives into the hands 
 of the enemy. 
 
 From the bluff it was impossible to see the edge 
 of the river at their feet. Thinking to find a tur- 
 key or deer they left their mules and slid down 
 the clay banks and came to a thick grove of cot- 
 tonwoods. They were advancing through this, 
 with never a thought of danger, when a voice pro- 
 fanely bawling out brought them to a halt. 
 
 Dropping to the w^et ground they crept forward 
 to the edge of the growth and were astounded to 
 behold the Golden Queen moored to a wood-yard. 
 Her boilers were dead and no smoke was issuing 
 from her stacks. The mate was loudly harangu- 
 ing and abusing the men who, busy as ants, were 
 bringing w^ood aboard. In tow was Prevost's 
 keelboat with two men aboard. Neither Prevost 
 nor any of the mountain men were with the boat 
 so far as the two comrades could discover. For- 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 117 
 
 ward on the steamer was a group of heavily 
 armed men who seemed to have no work to do. 
 Papa Clair glared at them and played with a 
 knife. 
 
 "There is Dillings," whispered Lander. "See 
 anything of Prevost on board ?" 
 
 Papa shook his head, murmuring : 
 
 "Sent two of his boatmen with the keelboat. 
 He and the men went with the mules by land. 
 Hah, behold! It is Tilton. Bah! The cowards I 
 He did not dare come to your room that night. 
 They won't risk their hides where they think we 
 have a chance to fight back." 
 
 Now the mate called a halt and gave rapid 
 orders. Deserting the wood-yard the men 
 swarmed along the shore and began salvaging 
 huge drift logs. 
 
 "Wood's just been cut. It's too green," whis- 
 pered Papa Clair. "The logs burn best. They've 
 been laying up here for hours. If they had had a 
 fire going the smoke would have warned us. As 
 it is we are lucky not to fall into their hands. 
 Wood-yards are easy to get at here ; but up-coun- 
 try the Indians hide near them and rush the men 
 sent ashore. More than one scalp has been taken 
 that way." 
 
ii8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Uan'der pressed Clair's arm, but the old man 
 had seen and already was working back into the 
 grove. The cause o£ his alarm was a tall, rangy 
 figure in fringed buckskin and carrying a long 
 rifle. 
 
 "Hunter for the boat,'' murmured Clair. "The 
 crew are easy to fool, but if he should come back 
 in here he would see our trail. We must go back 
 to the mules at once." 
 
 They lost no time in ascending the bluffs, the 
 man in buckskin looming in their inner vision as 
 a possible nemesis. 
 
 "He'll go ashore about midnight," continued 
 Papa Clair as they found their mules and moved 
 back a bit. "The steamer will start with the first 
 light and pick up what he kills and hangs in trees 
 along the shore. Steam has made women of the 
 river travelers. But behold, I remember when 
 corn, coffee, pork and beans were good enough 
 for any man three times a day. That was before 
 steam came to the Missouri. And yes, back of 
 those days when bear was easier to get than pork 
 we used bear meat. It wasn't so many years ago 
 that every one used bear oil for lard. Many the 
 long dugout I've seen come down the river with 
 the center bin filled with oil and covered with a 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 119 
 
 skin. Yes, and honey, too. Holy blue! But so 
 many bee trees in the Missouri bottoms in those 
 days. Fill the cargo-box full and off to town. 
 M'sieu Boone's boys brought in much honey. No 
 barrels, no casks then. And bear oil would go 
 through a skin bag like water through a broken 
 kettle. Ah, it makes me remember we are hun- 
 gry, my friend. The tall hunter gives me a 
 thought." 
 
 He led his mule farther back from the river, 
 Lander following, impatient to learn if his 
 thought tended to serve the food problem. Clair 
 halted and gravely said : 
 
 "It is robbery I would lead you into. But what 
 would you have when hungry and the belt set in 
 an extra notch ? One must eat when one starves 
 even if one pays the shot to the devil for dining. 
 May the tall hunter have much luck!" And he 
 crossed himself devoutly. 
 
 Lander understood and with boyisK zest was 
 eager to play Papa Clair's game of larceny. 
 They retired a quarter of a mile and were lucky 
 enough to stumble upon a turkey which they 
 dressed and broiled over dry twigs. 
 
 By the time they had eaten, long pennons of 
 black smoke streamed high above the top of the 
 
120 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 wooded bluffs and they knew the boat was once 
 more fighting its way against the current. They 
 stalked it until it tied up for the night, then 
 pressed on ahead a mile and secured their mules 
 well back from the shore. 
 
 With the first streak of light they were scout- 
 ing along the grove and were soon rewarded by 
 the crack of a rifle. 
 
 "He's bagged something!" exulted Lander. 
 
 "May God be good to him in his hunting!" 
 piously muttered Papa Clair. "The devil sent 
 this high water to drown out the game. Turkey 
 does not fill me. I want red meat." 
 
 Maneuvering down to the bank Clair struck the 
 hunter's trail and followed it until they came to a 
 small deer hung up in a tree where it could be 
 plainly discovered from the boat. "K volume of 
 smoke down-stream tarnishing the glory of the 
 morning sun marked the coming of the Golden 
 Queen. The two adventurers now heard the 
 hunter's rifle speak again some distance ahead. 
 
 The deer was removed from the tree, carried 
 back into the woods and butchered. Loaded with 
 the meat they scrambled up the slope and located 
 their mules. They struck due north for several 
 miles before daring to halt and make camp. 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 121 
 
 Hastily broiling some steaks they satisfied 
 their enormous appetites and rode west, swinging 
 down toward the river as the sun touched the 
 horizon. They were at the neck of a bend, and 
 cutting across this they beheld the Golden Queen 
 working inshore through the many snags. 
 
 The voices of the crew and passengers could be 
 plainly heard. Papa Clair pointed out a man on 
 the upper deck and informed: 
 
 "It is his work to watch for the game the 
 hunter hangs up on the bank. The hunter has 
 had poor luck, making his kills far apart. When 
 game is plenty he will be back on board by ten 
 o'clock in the morning with the rest of the day 
 for sleep and playing the gentleman. He can not 
 be asked to do any work of any kind. Once I 
 was hunter for a keelboat. But that was far 
 different." 
 
 Now the lookout cupped his mouth and bawled 
 out, "Ducks on th' starboard bow !" 
 
 Clair chuckled softly and whispered : 
 
 "The tall hunter will be very angry when he 
 goes aboard and does not find the deer. The 
 lookout man will be blamed and that will make 
 him angry. Now we can go back. There is a big 
 bend for us to cut across to-morrow." 
 
122 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 That night they ate as only a borderer can eat 
 after being half-starved for days. Lander was 
 amazed at the portions of meat he devoured. At 
 dawn they were on their way, keeping wide of the 
 river until Papa Clair decided they were near the 
 bend, when they bore south again. Papa Clair 
 should have sensed the possibility of others choos- 
 ing to walk across the bend, even as he and 
 Lander were doing. Apparently he did not give 
 the matter a thought, and Lander was too green 
 to the country to think of it. 
 
 The two fared pleasantly, having eaten heart- 
 ily, wnth Papa in a boy's mood and regaling his 
 companion with many stories of the upper coun- 
 try. It was seldom he mentioned those periods 
 of his life spent on the lower Mississippi, in and 
 around New Orleans. 
 
 "Call this a bend," he scoffed. "Wait till you 
 go round the Great Bend, thirty miles by boat and 
 only a mile and a half across by land. Before 
 the steamboat it was hard for river men. Last 
 year when Jedediah Smith took some Rocky 
 Mountain Fur men with loaded wagons to the 
 Rockies by way of the Platte and Sweetwater he 
 showed what one could do by land travel. 
 M'sieu Bridger says he could have taken the 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 123 
 
 wagons over the mountains by South Pass with 
 no trouble." 
 
 "Wish rd gone with that outfit. I'd know 
 something about the mountains by this time," 
 lamented Lander. 
 
 'Tf s not too late to learn if the A. F. C. don't 
 get you before you get started," Papa comforted. 
 "All their posts can be reached by water and they 
 have no love for land travel. When M'sieu Ash- 
 ley plunged into the mountains and set his men 
 to trapping instead of using the Indians he made 
 the A. F. C. open its eyes and grow very angry. 
 The A. F. C. has more influence among the 
 Indians than the government's Indian Depart- 
 ment. There's no law beyond Fort Leavenworth 
 except what you make and enforce yourself. To 
 build posts in opposition is sorry business for the 
 independent trader. He is undersold and dis- 
 couraged and tricked in a hundred ways. The 
 Indians do not believe the new man can last for 
 more than a season and so they stick to the A. 
 F. C" 
 
 "Stick so long as the liquor holds out," laughed 
 Lander. "Fort Union was always sending word 
 by express that they must have liquor." 
 
 "Ah, but those A. F. C. Such men! When it 
 
124 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 came hard to smuggle liquor they built a big dis- 
 tillery inside the fort. They got corn from the 
 Mandans and the Minnetarees and turned out all 
 they needed. There was Pinaud who killed Blair 
 at Cabanne's Post. Both were hunters for the 
 post. Behold, it was cold-blooded murder. Pin- 
 aud is taken to St. Louis and put on trial for his 
 life. Every one on the river knew he would be 
 hung. Every one said : *Eh ? A rascal. May the 
 devil take him!* And he was acquitted! No 
 witnesses came down the river to tell the truth 
 against him. The A. F. C. was willing he should 
 be hung, but to place a noose around his neck 
 would show the company was violating the law 
 by selling liquor at its posts. So Pinaud, the mur- 
 derer, is free and back up on the river some- 
 where, believing he can kill any one and not be 
 punished. I have often wished I could have him 
 within good throwing distance." 
 
 A rifle barked behind them and Lander's mule 
 bolted. The shot hardly sounded before Papa 
 Clair was off his mule and crouching behind some 
 wild rose bushes. 
 
 "Get down ! Get down ! Do you want to see 
 the mountains, my friend?" he softly called out. 
 
 Lander fell off his mule and crawled behind 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 125 
 
 a walnut tree, his animal trotting away to find 
 its mate in Clair's hiding-place. And this was the 
 danger Clair should have anticipated when he 
 started to travel across the bend. 
 
 Clair beckoned for Lander to crawl to him. 
 As Lander obeyed he instructed : 
 
 "Take the mules and lead them back from the 
 river. Name of a pig! Why did I forget there 
 were others who were hungry to walk on the 
 land!" 
 
 "If there is to be any fighting — " Lander 
 began. 
 
 ''Non! non! I must see how many of the mur- 
 derers are behind us. It may be it is some 
 straggler." 
 
 Securing the mules Lander bent half double 
 and slowly worked them back from the bend. 
 Papa pulled his ragged hat firmly over his white 
 hair and began scouting his back trail. Moving 
 with exquisite cunning he reached the spot where 
 he believed the assassin must have stood in firing 
 the shot. He circled about this point, moving 
 with the ease of a shadow. He heard nothing to 
 arouse his suspicions, but when half-way round 
 the circle he came upon signs which told him one 
 man had recently passed there. Now a faint 
 
126 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 ^'hidloo'' came down the wind, indicating the shot 
 had been heard. 
 
 Taking the unknown's trail Clair followed it. 
 He believed that some of those who had gone 
 ahead would be returning soon to investigate the 
 shot. 
 
 He trailed the would-be slayer across the circle 
 and into his own trail. To his trained eye it was 
 obvious the man ahead was no woodsman, for his 
 signs were many and exhibited much awkward- 
 ness. 
 
 Coming to some bull-berry bushes which stood 
 twelve feet high and were thick with thorns 
 Papa noted a thread caught on a thorn. He 
 examined it carefully and pronounced it to be 
 homespun. The man had crowded too close to 
 the ticklish cover. Why ? Clair crept around the 
 bushes and to his horror caught a glimpse of 
 Lander making up the bush-grown slope. He 
 vanished almost as soon as seen, but there were 
 other open spots ahead of him. 
 
 With a click of the teeth that denoted dismay 
 Papa Clair shifted his gaze to the foreground, 
 desperately seeking the snake before he could 
 strike. He swept his eyes in a semicircle and 
 repeated before he made out the homespun-clad 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 127 
 
 figure blending in with the bare, dull branches of 
 the bush growth. The man was kneeling and his 
 long rifle was bearing on the slope. As Papa 
 Clair raised his rifle Lander came into view. 
 The assassin steadied his gun, but Clair's was the 
 only shot fired. Lander turned and stared down 
 into the lowlands. 
 
 Clair raced to the silent figure, gave it one 
 glance, and then tore up the rise to Lander. 
 
 "Hat of the devil!" panted the old man, seiz- 
 ing the mules and fairly dragging the surprised 
 young man into the bushes. 
 
 "Are they coming?'* gasped Lander. 
 
 "If not it is not because m'sieu has not invited 
 them," groaned Papa. "You ride in the sun- 
 light, in open places, where all the world can see 
 you. At night you should carry a flaming torch 
 in each hand and sing. Then you would throw 
 the assassins off the trail. Messieurs, the mur- 
 derers, must be puzzled to know w^here you are." 
 
 "I must be very green," Lander sheepishly con- 
 fessed. "I didn't think I could be seen. Who 
 fired the shot?" 
 
 "I, Etienne Clair. Dillings was stalking you 
 as he would a blind bull." 
 ' "Of course you — " faltered Lander. 
 
128 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "I always do. Had I had time I should have 
 used the knife. Come — the others will be hurry- 
 ing here like turkey-buzzards after meat." 
 
 They turned north almost at right angles with 
 the river and had barely lost themselves in a 
 region of scrub when a hoarse howl at the neck 
 of the bend advertised the discovery of Dillings' 
 body. The two mules left an open trail, and Papa 
 Clair dismounted and scouted ahead. Soon he 
 whistled and Lander joined him on a stretch of 
 stony ground that ran east and west. Clair 
 mounted and took time to breathe deeply. 
 
 "They are not woodsmen, my friend. They 
 are but tavern loungers. Yet behold, a man with- 
 out eyes could follow our trail. So it is very good 
 we reached this rough strip. We will follow it 
 west and strike into the bull-berry bushes." 
 
 "Thanks to you we got out of that mess 
 nicely," shivered Lander. 
 
 "Not yet out of it. They know we are here. 
 They heard Dillings shoot. They know he 
 wouldn't fire unless he saw something to shoot at. 
 They heard my shot. They find him dead. We 
 have lost a move. Now we will hold back and be 
 sure the boat has gone on ahead even if we arrive 
 at Lexington after the outfit has started." 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 129 
 
 "Xnd be hunted by Tilton's gang all the way to 
 Lexington/' reminded Lander. ''They'll quit the 
 boat and chase us afoot." 
 
 "Bah ! they are nothing. If only " 
 
 _ "Go on," urged Lander. 
 
 "If only they do not send the tall hunter after 
 us," mused Clair. "He is used to following trails 
 and reading signs. When he hears of Dillings' 
 death he will know we took the deer. He will not 
 get his satisfy till he bags us. But God wills." 
 
 They traveled hard as long as a shred of light 
 remained, purposing to add as much distance as 
 possible after darkness should blot out their trail 
 from the hunter's knowing eyes. Then they 
 would keep to cover until satisfied the Golden 
 Queen was far up the river. They knew the boat 
 w^ould not wait for any scheme of vengeance to 
 be worked out. Lander surmised his old friend 
 was apprehensive. He was sure of it when the 
 old man insisted they build no fire but eat what 
 meat they already had cooked. 
 
 "Tall and thin. Thin as a buffalo cow in early 
 spring," he mumbled as he tore at his food. 
 Then to Lander: "You saw the hunter. How 
 did he walk?" 
 
 "I didn't notice, beyond his trick of swinging 
 
130 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 his right leg sideways a bit. Maybe he didn't, but 
 that's the way it looked." 
 
 **Good ! You will make a mountain man yet — 
 if you live. It all came to me a few minutes ago. 
 I saw it and did not think about it till now. Now 
 something inside of my head gave me a jerk and 
 said for me to remember how he swung his leg. 
 There could be no other." 
 
 "Meaning the hunter?" puzzled Lander. 
 
 "Pinaud, the hunter. The man who murdered 
 Blair, and who would have been hung if the 
 A. F. C. had not been trading whisky to the 
 Indians. He's as deadly as a rattlesnake, a killer 
 by nature. He is very worthy of one's best atten- 
 tion. It is to be regretted we must take the 
 mules along." 
 
 Lander found his appetite diminishing. Pin- 
 aud, the hunter, was a vastly different proposi- 
 tion from Tilton and his blundering roughs. 
 Lander suggested they stand watch but Papa 
 shook his head, reminding that even a Pinaud 
 could not follow a trail through the darkness. 
 
 "Then he must have sleep. In the morning he 
 will seek us. The boat can not wait for him to 
 hunt us and the boat must have fresh meat. He 
 will try to add us to his bag as he goes along." 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 131 
 
 They were not disturbed that night, and they 
 entered upon the sixth day of their journey with 
 considerable confidence. The mules were a 
 nuisance, but it was out of the question to con- 
 sider leaving them behind when Bridger depended 
 upon them for the overland trip. They avoided 
 the sky-line when in the open and toward midday 
 saw smoke above the trees. Something had 
 delayed the boat, and instead of being behind they 
 were ahead of it. 
 
 "We will wait for it to pass," mumbled Papa. 
 *T will find some dry stuff which will not smoke 
 and we will risk a fire. You shall broil some 
 meat while I look about." 
 
 Lander stuck some green willow wands into 
 the ground so that the meat-laden tips inclined 
 over the small, smokeless blaze, and then settled 
 himself to wait for Papa Clair's return. He 
 sensed no danger as he sat there, hands resting on 
 his knees. Pinaud, the hunter, was the last per- 
 son in his thoughts for the excellent reason that 
 Miss Susette was there, a vision that excluded all 
 else. Then Pinaud, the hunter, suddenly stood 
 before him, a savage grin on his thin, dark face 
 as he pointed his rifle and kicked Lander's gun to 
 one side. 
 
132 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Lander had no time to betray the surprise he 
 felt. He curiously wondered why the man did 
 not shoot. 
 
 "Where is your mate?" softly asked Pinaud, 
 rolling his eyes to search the surrounding cover. 
 
 Then Lander surmised his life would be spared 
 so long as the shot would serve to bring Papa 
 Clair to the scene. This hope was shattered as 
 Pinaud's prowling eyes took in the rifle he had 
 kicked aside. Provided with an extra gun, the 
 very thing he had refrained from doing — dis- 
 charging his rifle — became the strategic thing to 
 do. He could kill Lander, then wait behind a 
 bush for Clair to come up and catch the bullet 
 from the second weapon. As Clair might return 
 at any moment he must either shoot or retreat at 
 once. 
 
 "Where is your mate ?" he repeated. 
 
 "Looking for you." 
 
 "You mean he knows who I am ?" 
 
 "Pinaud, the hunter. We saw you on tKe boat 
 several days ago. We've seen you every day 
 since." 
 
 Pinaud frowned and darted his sharp gaze 
 from side to side. 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 133 
 
 "You found a deer. One I shot for the boat. 
 You took it," he ominously accused. 
 
 Lander nodded toward the broiling venison. 
 
 "Who is the other man ?" hissed Pinaud. 
 
 "Papa Clair, of New Orleans and St. Louis." 
 
 Had a rattlesnake sounded his warning be- 
 tween the hunter's moccasins the effect could not 
 have been more pronounced. He leaped to one 
 side and snatched his gaze from Lander long 
 enough to reconnoiter in every direction, while he 
 tilted his head and with his supernormal hearing 
 sought to catch some sound of Clair returning. 
 
 "Curse him," he softly whispered. "Wanted me 
 hung in St. Louis for killing a dog. But they 
 didn't dare hang Pinaud, the hunter." 
 
 Lander held his lazy position, his hands clasp- 
 ing his knees, his right hand over the haft of the 
 knife inside the bootleg, his attention concen- 
 trated on the man who had come to kill him. 
 
 "How far was he going?" snarled Pinaud, 
 again betraying uneasiness. 
 
 "To the boat." 
 
 "You lie ! I'm going to shoot you." 
 
 "Go ahead. Clair will get you before you can 
 reload." 
 
 "I'll have your gun for him." 
 
134 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "You'll need to load it first." 
 
 Pinaud stirred the long piece with his foot but 
 did not dare to risk an}^ examination. Suddenly 
 he began smiling. 
 
 "It's a good joke on me," he explained. "I've 
 hunted and shot game so long I forgot I do not 
 have to use my rifle on you." And he grinned 
 ferociously as he observed Lander's empty belt. 
 "Death without any noise. Then I camp by your 
 body and shoot old Clair, the meddler, when he 
 comes back. Yes, that is very good. Strange 
 game I'll hang up for the boat to take off. And 
 a good price I'll get from Hurry-Up Parker." 
 
 He approached, walking on his toes and 
 crouching ready for a spring. Lander, as if hyp- 
 notized by fear, did not stir. When within ten 
 feet of Lander the hunter snatched out his long 
 butcher-knife, dropped his rifle and sprang on his 
 victim. He was in mid-air when Lander's right 
 hand flashed out Papa Clair's gift knife. 
 
 Pinaud's moccasins struck the ground only for 
 him to leap back to recover his discarded rifle. 
 Lander jumped after him and gave him no time 
 to snatch up the weapon. To add to the drama 
 of the scene a low whistle sounded near by. Lan- 
 der answered it. Now Pinaud knew the trap 
 
PINAUD, THE HUNTER 135 
 
 he had set had caught himself unless he could 
 make his escape with the next sixty seconds. He 
 commenced desperate knife play, but his heart 
 wilted as he found his blade turned aside with a 
 precision and firmness he had never encountered 
 before. 
 
 The whistle was repeate'd. With a yelp of dis- 
 may Pinaud kicked at Lander's knee and thrust. 
 There was a slither of steel against steel as the 
 two blades crossed and locked, a cunning twist, 
 and Pinaud fell to the ground, stabbed through 
 the heart. 
 
 It was thus that Papa Clair found them. Pin- 
 aud's face was composed and serene. Dander's 
 visage was wild and staring, and Ke caught his 
 breath hysterically as he glare'd at the dead man. 
 He was partl}^ arouse'd b}^ Pa^a Clair's cheery 
 words : 
 
 "You've made it much simpler, my friend. 
 We can now ride to Eexington without any fears 
 of being overtaken by surprise. But there is one 
 job we must first bother to do." And he moved 
 toward the dead man. 
 
 *'I can't touch it 1" shuddered I^ander. 
 
 "My mule and I Haven't any such nice feel- 
 ings," chuckled the old man. "Don't feel put out 
 
136 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 because you wouldn't let a low-down murderer 
 add you to his list of victims. His death is much 
 to your credit." 
 
 Despite his frail physique he lifted the dead 
 man and threw him across the mule and turned 
 away. 
 
 "Wait," hoarsely cried Lander. "If you want 
 to hide it, why not leave it here — ^under rocks? 
 We must shift our camp anyway." 
 
 "Hide it !" exclaimed Papa Clair. "What fool- 
 ishness. Fm going to hitch it to a tree so the 
 look-out on the boat can see it and call out, 
 *Dead man on the starboard bow.' " 
 
Chapter VI 
 
 FIVE WALKS 
 
 JIM BRIDGER walked over to a small tent 
 back of the cook-tent, pushed aside the flaps 
 and said: 
 
 **You can come out now. Boat*s gone." 
 
 The tent was seemingly filled with supplies. 
 A barrel, empty, moved aside and from a little 
 pen within the barricade emerged Lander and 
 Papa Clair. 
 
 ".Where's Tilton?" asked Papa. 
 
 "He and his men have started down the river 
 in two twenty-foot dugouts. Had all I could do 
 to keep the boys from mounting 'em. At that 
 Long Simons heaved Tilton into the river. We 
 shall start as soon as the keelboat is under way." 
 
 Greeted by friendly grins and much coarse 
 humor Lander and his old friend walked to the 
 river bank, where some thirty men were ready to 
 start the keelboat on its long trip. Etienne Pre- 
 
 137 
 
138 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 vost was to go as master, or *'patron," and as the 
 position included the responsibiHties of steersman 
 he was now standing on top of the long cargo box 
 with his men grouped in the bow. For the first 
 of the trip there would be no cordelling, as several 
 bars were to be crossed at this stretch of the river 
 and poles could be used. Prevost waved his hand 
 to the two new recruits and called out : 
 
 "Change your minds. Leave the mule outfit 
 and go with me, Etienne Clair and young man. 
 I have been sick from laughing ever since the 
 cap'n of the Golden Queen told me how the sen- 
 try bawled out 'Deer on the starboard bow/ and 
 they sent off the skiff to find that rascal of a 
 Pinaud hanging from a tree. There is room for 
 you two if you will come." 
 
 "You make me very happy with your kind 
 words, Etienne Prevost, but I will have none of 
 the river," replied Papa Clair. 
 
 "An' you'll git me mad, Prevost, if you try to 
 steal my men. I need 'em," warned Bridger. 
 
 Prevost smiled and called to his crew. The 
 men separated into two groups, each man pick- 
 ing up a long pole with a knob on the end. Men 
 on the bank pushed the long craft off until its 
 nose caught the current. 
 
FIVE WALKS 139 
 
 '^A has les perches!" roared Prevost, grasping 
 the long tiller, although he would not be called 
 on to steer so long as the polemen propelled it. 
 
 Each man brought the knob of the pole into the 
 hollow of his shoulder and thrust the tip over the 
 side until it found bottom. Then a St. Louis Cre- 
 ole started a song; the men ashore, and those on 
 board not busily engaged, began discharging their 
 guns. The two groups of polemen became two 
 lines, one on each side of the boat. 
 
 Along each side of the boat extended the passe 
 avant, or narrow runway, strongly cleated to af- 
 ford a grip for the men's feet. Surging against 
 their poles and treading on the cleats with every 
 ounce of leg-strength the men began to force the 
 boat from beneath their feet. To those ashore it 
 looked as though they were walking down the 
 runways. 
 
 As the boat began to respond to the pressure 
 the polemen leaned so far forward as to seize the 
 cleats with their free hands, presenting the gro- 
 tesque spectacle of walking on all fours. Under 
 such an impetus the boat conquered the muddy 
 current, and as the driving force was equally 
 divided held a straight course, the steersmen 
 holding the tiller loosely. 
 
I40 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Another volley, supplemented with much shout- 
 ing-, rang out from the bank, and Prevost roared 
 his second order : 
 
 "Levez les perches!" 
 
 Up came the poles, only to drop overboard as 
 the first order was repeated; and again the two 
 lines of men buckled down to it with their shoul- 
 ders against the knobs and their feet pushing the 
 cleats forward. To Lander the uninitiated it was 
 a stirring sight, not so much because of its novelty 
 as for the romance and adventure it suggested. 
 The men must carry the long tow-line along 
 shores almost impassable. Whether on the move 
 or tied up for the night there would be much dan- 
 ger from the Indians, especially from the Ari- 
 caras. It was destined that some of the light- 
 hearted company would never return. 
 
 "Enough powder's been wasted, boys," called 
 out Bridger. "Give 'em cheers and make ready 
 to start. Come and help me get out the 
 equipments." 
 
 Lander was soon busy handing out one pair of 
 three-point blankets and powder and ball to each 
 man. Finishing this task he joined Papa Clair 
 and Bridger in assigning the mules. Each man 
 had two, one to ride and one to lead as a pack 
 
FIVE WALKS 141 
 
 animal. Then followed the apportionment of 
 goods for each mule, consisting of beaver traps, 
 guns, powder, lead, blankets, liquor in curious 
 flat casks, and clothing. The supplies of bacon 
 and hardtack, and several hundred pounds of corn 
 meal, went with the commissary department, 
 which also had charge of a score of sheep. The 
 last were to furnish meat until the company struck 
 the buffalo country. In addition to Bridger and 
 Papa Clair there were forty-five men in the 
 company. 
 
 The scene became very animated when the 
 mules rebelled, some breaking loose and running 
 away, others rolling and scattering their loads. 
 Each man was responsible for his two animals 
 and it was some time before rebels were run down 
 and brought back. 
 
 The word to march finally was given. The 
 course was originally a buffalo trail, then an 
 Indian trail and now the mountain man's recog- 
 nized road. A few years later it would be known 
 as the Oregon Trail and by the plains tribes as 
 "The Great Medicine Road." For two days it 
 followed the Santa Fe Trail, then swung aside to 
 the northwest and after crossing Wakarusa Creek 
 held on for thirty miles to the Kansas. 
 
142 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 After a few days of travel the mules became 
 accustomed, if not reconciled, to their burdens 
 and Bridger proceeded to instill a Httle military 
 discipline. He divided the company into four 
 divisions of nine guards each and named nine of- 
 ficers. Every third day, as soon as camp was 
 made and the mules had been picketed in the mid- 
 dle of the encampment, an officer posted the 
 guards. Each twenty minutes thereafter the offi- 
 cer would call out, "Airs well," and each guard 
 in turn was expected to answer. When a man 
 was found asleep at his post he was ordered to 
 give up his gun in Bridger's tent, submit to a fine, 
 usually five dollars, and be sentenced to "three 
 walks," that is to travel afoot for three days. Be- 
 cause of the growing danger from prowling 
 Indians the guards were not permitted to move 
 from their posts, and this rule would have made 
 the struggle against sleep a hard one had they 
 been required to remain on duty longer than the 
 scheduled two and a half hours. 
 
 Lander found himself in Porker's division and 
 he fancied the man's eyes had a cruel glint as 
 they rested on him. He disliked the man intensely 
 and wished most heartily he had been assigned 
 to Long Simons' squad. However, he turned to 
 
FIVE WALKS 143 
 
 his strange duties with a will, remembering it was 
 Bridger and not Porker who was his boss. And 
 there was much satisfaction in witnessing the 
 esteem in which Bridger held Papa Clair. Papa 
 was not required to act as captain of the guard, as 
 the nine leaders easily looked after the four 
 divisions. 
 
 From the start there was much about the 
 adventure which Lander enjoyed immensely. 
 The wildness and freedom of it all was a magnif- 
 icent revelation to one who for two years had 
 been cooped up in a store. A few minor details 
 were irritating. He had no coffee nor sugar. 
 The interminable bacon was occasionally varied 
 with a piece of mutton, but mutton soon palled 
 on his appetite. His companions encouraged him 
 to hope for better things by repeatedly dwelling 
 on the sumptuous feasts that would follow their 
 first meeting with the buffalo. 
 
 All went well with Lander until after they had 
 crossed the Big Blue, fording it near the mouth 
 of the Little Blue. He had ceased to be suspicious 
 of Porker's intentions. 
 
 Then came the night when his division stood 
 the first watch. 
 
 Porker stationed his men as usual. Lander's 
 
144 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 pack mule had been possessed of the devil that 
 day, bolting twice over the back trail and losing 
 his load by rolling. No sooner had Lander re- 
 packed and secured the load, v^ith his mates a 
 long line of dots on the edge of the plain, than his 
 riding mule viciously leaped sidewise and threw 
 his rider in a patch of prickly pears. Exhausted 
 by his extra exertions and thoroughly disgusted 
 with the prickly pear Lander made camp in a dis- 
 gruntled frame of mind and dog-tired when 
 assigned to his post. 
 
 Those not on duty were smoking and singing 
 and telling stories or grinning secretly as they 
 listened to Bridger's enthusiastic description of 
 the wonders of the Yellowstone country. Brid- 
 ger picked Papa Clair for his audience as he had 
 not told him the stories before. Papa was polite 
 from his moccasins to his snowy thatch and 
 endeavored to smother any signs of incredulity. 
 Yet the best he could do he could not refrain at 
 times from emitting a low : 
 
 "Name of heaven ! Holy blue ! Caves of war- 
 paint ! Cascades of boiling water ! A basin filled 
 with scalding water springs which spout high to 
 the heavens ! Forests turned to stone ! Believe ? 
 Mon Dieii! Of course. M'sieu says it. It is 
 
FIVE WALKS 145 
 
 enough. It is so. But it can not be any country 
 on the surface of the globe. M'sieu must have 
 gone through a hole and found hell !'' 
 
 The shouts of laughter greeting such outbursts 
 increased Lander^s hunger for companionship. 
 Then he discovered he was so sleepy that only by 
 some miracle could he hope to keep awake. He 
 w^ould be helpless unless he walked about. He 
 fought the minutes standing erect and found him- 
 self swaying on his feet. He dared not sit down. 
 
 As it grew darker and the camp quieted and 
 there was no one to keep tabs on him he took to 
 trotting round his post in a small circle and found 
 the action did much to keep him up. Every 
 twenty minutes Porker's voice bawled the call, 
 and as often the men repeated it, the answer rip- 
 pling in a circle about the camp. 
 
 Six times the call came and was answered, and 
 Lander ceased his nervous pacing back and forth 
 and became confident he could fight the remain- 
 ing thirty minutes. There was no life about the 
 camp except as the ghostly forms of gray wolves 
 drifted near to investigate. Never had half an 
 hour dragged out to such a miserable length. But 
 at last came the call, and another ten minutes 
 would see the guards free to seek their blankets. 
 
146 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 The ten minutes passed and the relief came on 
 with no one coming to relieve Lander. He could 
 not understand how a mistake could have been 
 made. He did not dare to leave his post to learn 
 the reason ; nor did he fancy yelling for the cap- 
 tain to come to him, thereby perhaps arousing the 
 whole camp. Had he been sure the captain was 
 Long Simons he would have risked finding him 
 and explaining. 
 
 For the life of him it did not seem that he 
 could endure another twenty minutes, and yet he 
 was determined to hold on for that period. After 
 the new captain called his "all's well," Lander 
 would notice how many men answered. If nine 
 replied besides himself it would show his relief 
 had been posted apart from him. Instead of 
 revealing the captain's error he would steal back 
 to his blankets, soothed with knowing he had 
 acted generously. 
 
 By a superhuman effort he kept his eyes open, 
 and at last a voice called out the signal. It was 
 not Long Simons' voice. One, two, three — nine 
 men in all, including Lander, answered. The 
 detail had lacked a man, and he had been held 
 over without being warned of the necessity. 
 
 Now ire drove sleep from his mind. It seemed 
 
FIVE WALKS 147 
 
 to be the most serious affront that could be put 
 upon him. He tried to recall the captain's voice 
 and identify it. He decided not to answer the 
 next twenty-minute call. The captain would 
 come out to see if he were asleep and he would 
 demand an explanation and ask to be released. 
 
 Because of his increasing anger the time passed 
 quickly. 
 
 "All's well I" called the captain, his voice 
 sounding much nearer than it did on the first call. 
 
 The reply was made by three men, skipped 
 Lander and after a few moments' hesitation was 
 taken up by the fifth guard. As he had expected 
 Lander soon heard the soft steps of some one 
 approaching and made out a vague figure in the 
 starlight. 
 
 "Hah!" he snapped. 
 
 "That ye, Lander?'' 
 
 "I should say so. Who are you ? Sounds like 
 Rummy." 
 
 "Rummy's right," answered the captain, swag- 
 gering forward. "Why didn't ye answer my 
 call?" 
 
 "Because I've stood one watch and am tired. 
 I wasn't relieved. Get a man here so I can 
 turn in." 
 
148 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Like thunder ! Ye'll have to stick. I'm a man 
 shy. One of my men was kicked by a mule. An' 
 I want to know th' real reason why ye didn't 
 answer when ye heard me hoot. Orders says ye 
 must." 
 
 "I've told you. Keep the post yourself. Vm 
 going to turn in." And shouldering his rifle 
 Lander stalked toward the camp. 
 
 "Say, ye danged greenhorn, come back here on 
 th' jump. Sleepin' on yer post " 
 
 "You're a liar!" 
 
 "An' darin' to tell me to stand yer watch! 
 I'll " 
 
 "You go plumb to the devil!" snarled Lander, 
 resuming his way. 
 
 He believed he had been in his blankets only a 
 minute when he was aroused by a moccasin stir- 
 ring his ribs. He blinked and sat up, then leaped 
 to his feet inarticulate from wTath. Porker stood 
 there, glaring at him evilly. 
 
 "So ye dis'beyed orders an' quit yer post in th' 
 Injun country, ye runt," accused Porker. "I'll 
 make a zample of ye." 
 
 "You put up that job with Rummy. Played me 
 for two watches, you overgrown jackass." 
 
FIVE WALKS 149 
 
 With a deep-throated growl Porker drew back 
 a foot and Lander leaped aside to escape a kick. 
 
 "I'll Tarn ye to dis'bey orders, an' give me any 
 back talk," roared Porker, rushing him. 
 
 Lander dropped his hand to his boot and pulled 
 his knife, informing: 
 
 "I've fought your style once. Now you'll fight 
 mine." 
 
 Nothing loath, Porker whipped out his butch- 
 er-knife and made a murderous jab. To his 
 amazement he felt Lander's knife against his, and 
 the steel seemed to have fingers, for the butcher- 
 knife was sent high in the air. 
 
 "Pick it up and come back here," snarled 
 Lander. 
 
 "By the Lord Harry! Fighting with weapons 
 in my camp!" thundered Bridger, running 
 between the two. 
 
 Both began explaining at once, Porker black 
 with fury at having been disarmed. Bridger 
 silenced them and told Porker to tell his story. 
 Porker did so, making out a very serious case 
 against Lander. 
 
 Bridger turned to Lander after Porker had 
 finished and nodded for him to present his 
 
I50 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 defense. Lander quickly narrated his experience. 
 Bridger wheeled on the bully and demanded : 
 
 "You put him in to take the place of one of 
 Rummy's men?" 
 
 ''Had to, boss. One man shy, kicked by a 
 mule." 
 
 "Why didn't you explain to him ?" 
 
 "Didn't 'low there was any call to. Orders is 
 orders an' he quit his post, leavin' it naked." 
 
 "I left Rummy there," broke in Lander. 
 
 "Porker, you'll act as guard after this. Papa 
 Clair will take your place as captain. Lander, 
 you quit your post w^ithout being relieved. It 
 was your place to stick there till morning if neces- 
 sary. You should have depended on me to see 
 justice was done. You're fined ten dollars and 
 three walks. I'll not take your gun as you may 
 need it against Injuns." 
 
 Three days of w^alking decided Lander it 
 would be better to fit into Bridger's machine than 
 to try to be an independent cog. He also began 
 to appreciate the virtue of placing the general 
 good above any personal preference. He vowed 
 he would never be sentenced to walk again. Yet 
 very soon he was to find himself in trouble, and 
 this time because his intentions were altruistic. 
 
FIVE WALKS 151 
 
 The company had been traveling along south of 
 the Platte and now swung in close to the river. 
 Four days after striking the river two of Brid- 
 ger's hunters, who had wintered in the mountains 
 and were now on their way to meet the outfit, 
 brought in a load of buffalo meat. The entire 
 company was hungry for fresh meat that was not 
 mutton. The sheep, too, had dwindled in num- 
 bers until only Bridger and some of his right- 
 hand men partook of it. 
 
 With the imagination of the greenhorn Lander 
 had reveled in his anticipations of buffalo. The 
 old timers had regaled him with descriptions of 
 its lusciousness until his mouth watered. It did 
 not seem as if he could wait until the meat was 
 cooked. When it was found the buffalo chips 
 were too green to burn and that there was no 
 other fuel, he was foremost in foraging far and 
 wide in search of dry sunflower stalks. By 
 means of these the meat finally boiled and the 
 company ravenously gathered for the feast. 
 
 As there were no dishes the cook selected a 
 clean spot on the ground and emptied the kettle. 
 Then the men lunged with their long butcher- 
 knives, spearing meat with one hand and holding 
 their little bags of salt in the other. With great 
 
152 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 zest Lander secured a promising portion but on 
 endeavoring to bolt a morsel found it to be as 
 tough and resilient as rubber. His teeth were 
 strong and sharp-set by hunger but it was impos- 
 sible for him to chew it, let alone to swallow it. 
 
 "Bull!'* grunted Long Simons observing the 
 collapse of Lander's hopes. "Tough old bull, 
 too." 
 
 It was one of the great disappointments of 
 Lander's life. He had set his heart on that first 
 meal of buffalo steaks. Papa Clair sought to 
 cheer him up by assuring : 
 
 "Very soon some fat cows. Ah, name of 
 heaven ! But that will be fine eating !" 
 
 "Don't tell me any more," growled Lander. 
 "One must be a wolf to eat anything grown in 
 this country." 
 
 They pushed on up the river to the South' 
 Platte where the company was put on the alert by 
 a scout discovering three dead buffaloes near the 
 confluence of the two forks. 
 
 "Injun work! We must 'a' scared 'em away 
 before they could dress the critters," said Bridger. 
 
 Throwing out scouts on each side and far in 
 advance they proceeded to investigate the huge 
 
FIVE WALKS 153 
 
 carcasses. Bridger examined them carefully and 
 was unable to find a wound. 
 
 "Boys, these fellers was killed by a bolt of 
 lightning"," he informed. "See how they fell with 
 their noses close together. Their jackets will do 
 for a bull-boat. Simons, Porker and Rummy, git 
 their hides off. Papa Clair, take some men and 
 git some willow boughs." 
 
 In what Lander considered to be a miraculously 
 brief period of time the framework of willow was 
 constructed and the green hides stretched over it. 
 The result was a huge, awkward, buoyant craft, 
 floating the water as gently as a bubble and draw- 
 ing less than ten inches of water when loaded 
 with three tons of supplies. By aid of this the 
 company crossed the south fork to continue up 
 the south side of the north fork. It was an ideal 
 boat for shallow streams like the Platte, the 
 Cheyenne and the Niobrara, but helpless in deep 
 water where poles could not be used, and danger- 
 ous in swift waters where snags were thick, as 
 the covering was easily punctured. 
 
 'As in other things the white man had improved 
 on the bull-boat of the Missouri tribes, which 
 was nearly circular in shape and propelled by 
 paddles, every stroke causing them to revolve 
 
154 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 nearly around. This boat, so quickly put to- 
 gether, was twice as long as it was wide and 
 easily controlled by polemen. 
 
 After the crossing, and when Chimney Rock 
 came into view. Lander's zeal to be helpful got 
 him into his second bit of trouble. In the clear 
 atmosphere the Rock appeared to be very near, 
 although distant two or three days' journey. 
 Turning his pack mule over to Papa Clair, Lan- 
 der rode off one side and up a low bluff to see 
 what lay beyond. From Papa Clair he had 
 learned that Bridger believed a large band of In- 
 dians was following the outfit. He wished to 
 act the scout and be the first to discover the red 
 men. Instead of Indians he beheld a large body 
 of buffalo. The cows at this season were thin 
 and sorry-looking creatures and poor eating, but 
 near the edge of the herd he made out several 
 that looked very fat. Could he take fat cow meat 
 into camp he would indeed be a hero. 
 
 With a kick of the heel he sent the mule slid- 
 ing down the north side of the bluff and made for 
 the buffaloes. The old bull sentinels lifted their 
 shaggy heads and bellowed a rumbling warning. 
 The herd slowly got in motion and, by the time 
 Lander was clear of the bluff, was in a well-or- 
 
FIVE WALKS 155 
 
 ganized retreat, the bulls bringing up the rear and 
 guarding the sides most chivalrously, the cows 
 and calves running in the middle. It was near 
 sundown and the lateral beams of light made 
 gorgeous play on the clouds of dust kicked up by 
 the heavy creatures. Lander kept up the chase 
 for a mile or more, tlien gave it up as useless and 
 cursing his luck rode back to the company. 
 
 When he entered camp he was struck by the 
 silence of the men and their averted faces. When 
 one did look at him, especially if it were Rummy 
 or Porker, he read keen hate in the furtive glance. 
 Bridger sat alone before his small tent, his hands 
 hanging limply over his knees, his brown hair 
 brushed back, and his gray eyes frowning 
 savagely. 
 
 * 'Lander, come here,'* he sternly called out. 
 
 Much puzzled Lander advanced and stood at 
 attention. 
 
 "Why did you raise the buffaloes?" curtly 
 demanded Bridger, his eyes now blazing with 
 suppressed wrath. 
 
 ''Raise the buffaloes," Lander faltered. 
 "Why, I saw some fat cows. I wanted to kill 
 some and bring the boys some real meat. The 
 sheep was bad enough when we had it." • 
 
156 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Never mind that/* interrupted Bridger. 
 "You've been guilty of raising the buffaloes. If 
 you was a' Injun, hunting with your tribe, an' 
 you done that your lodge would be cut to pieces 
 by the 'soldiers' an' your dogs killed. If it was 
 the second time you done it you'd be beaten with 
 clubs, perhaps killed. If you was a chief it 
 wouldn't make any difference; for when a white 
 or red raises the buffalo it means his people must 
 go hungry." 
 
 "But I didn't know," cried Lander. 
 
 "A poor stomach-filler to give hungry men. 
 'Another time don't try things you don't know. 
 Put your gun in my camp. Ten dollars fine and 
 five walks." 
 
 As Lander slunk back among the men he found 
 no welcome. Muttered curses were hurled at him 
 from all sides. Only the fear of Bridger saved 
 him from violence. Even Long Simons refused 
 to show any good nature and grunted : 
 
 "Bridger oughter make ye keep five miles 
 behind us. Then th' Injuns would git ye." 
 
 Lander waited for Papa Clair to give him sym- 
 pathy, but the old man kept away from him. In 
 this fashion did he learn what an impardonable 
 offense he had committed. Had the company 
 
FIVE WALKS 157 
 
 been out of food his thoughtlessness might have 
 sentenced them all to starvation. 
 
 This resentment against the man who had 
 raised the buffalo lost none of its edge even after 
 Lander had walked away three days of his sen- 
 tence. The spectacle of him limping into camp 
 long after the evening meal had been served won 
 him no sympathy. Papa Clair did see to it that 
 his coarse rations were waiting for him. 
 
 Fortunately it was not his squad's turn to take 
 a watch until near morning. With nothing but 
 disagreeable thoughts to occupy his mind and 
 denied the companionship of his fellows, Lander 
 sullenly aided in building the raft of cottonwoods 
 on which they crossed the forks of the Laramie. 
 They found several more hunters arrived from 
 the mountains to announce the summer rendez- 
 vous would be held on Green River near Horse 
 Creek. The coming of the hunters and their 
 statement that trade would be excellent if the 
 A. F. C. outfit did not reach the rendezvous first 
 put Bridger in good humor. Liquor was served 
 and a big drunk indulged in. Bridger was also 
 elated to learn that Jim Baker, who next to Car- 
 son was destined to be most highly valued by 
 Fremont as a scout, was due to arrive soon. 
 
158 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Dern him for a bunch of foolish fancies an* 
 beliefs in Injun magic," chuckled Bridger remin- 
 iscently. *'The Snake people have filled him full 
 of funny notions. But as a mountain man there 
 ain't nothing in the Missouri Valley that can 
 teach him tricks.'* 
 
 "I remember when he went to the mountains a 
 boy. Went for the A. F. C. I know of no man 
 that has stuck to the mountains so close as 
 M'sieu Baker," added Papa Clair. "I once saw 
 him lose nine thousand dollars at a monte-bank 
 at a rendezvous. He was on his way to the 
 States to buy a farm. In the morning he started 
 back for the mountains." 
 
 Bridger announced the course would be to the 
 Sweetwater, striking the river near Independence 
 Rock. As this route would be a little off the 
 Platte Lander feared lest Baker might miss the 
 outfit and keep on traveling east. He was bold 
 enough to say as much. Bridger eyed him in 
 silence for a minute. Those standing by doubled 
 up and thrust their fists into their mouths. Even 
 Papa Clair smiled. 
 
 Bridger said : 
 
 "For just pure, cussed, fool notions there ain't 
 nothing west of the Mississippi that can show 
 
FIVE WALKS 159 
 
 you anything, young man. Git lost! Old Jim 
 Baker git lost on nothing bigger'n a continent? 
 Run by this outfit without seeing the trail ? Wal, 
 wal, live an* learn. Only some folks must live a 
 thousand years, I reckon. How many walks 
 left?'* 
 
 "One." 
 
 "Spend it trying to turn your thoughts on 
 yourself. Then think of the Rocky Mountains an* 
 try to grasp some of the things you don't seem 
 to cotton to just now." 
 
 That last walk was undertaken in much sullen- 
 ness of spirit. Instead of following the trail 
 made by the many mules Lander deliberately 
 swung off to one side. Owing to the increased 
 danger from Indians Bridger had given back his 
 rifle, and suddenly the ambition seized him to 
 show these uncouth men that he was amply able to 
 care for himself. He would get game and camp 
 by himself. He would not bother to make the 
 outfit's camp that night, but would take his time 
 and might keep away for several days. Then he 
 would coolly drop in on them and refuse food, 
 explaining that he had been stuffing himself. 
 
 His plan resulted as any plainsman could have 
 warned him. Once he quit the trail he was lost. 
 
i6o KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 He knew which way was west by the sun, but the 
 western horizon was a mighty big stretch to aim 
 at. He also knew the river was somewhere on his 
 right, and that later it would bar his path where 
 it flowed from the south and before swinging 
 east to make the Missouri. But whether he was 
 abreast of the company or had gone ahead of it 
 he had no idea. He knew he had made excellent 
 time as he had munched his hardtack rations and 
 bacon as he walked. That night he camped alone 
 from necessity. 
 
 There followed several days of lonely wander- 
 ings. His food, consisting of hardtack, was soon 
 consumed. He managed to shoot a prairie hen 
 but had traveled so wide of the river that he de- 
 pended on buffalo wallows for water. He was 
 hungry, but he suffered more from loneHness 
 than from lack of food. 
 
 At last he came to a stream which he followed 
 until it merged with another. He was at the 
 junction of the Sweetwater and the north fork of 
 the Platte, only he did not know it. In the south- 
 east were the Laramie Mountains and in the north 
 the Rattlesnake Hills. These were unnamed so 
 far as his knowledge of them went. It was in the 
 middle of the afternoon when he threw himself 
 
FIVE WALKS i6i 
 
 down by the stream to drink and bathe his head 
 in the icy water. As he rested there a buffalo 
 cow, fairly fat, clambered down from a circular 
 mound and made for the river. By luck Lander 
 managed to make a kill. 
 
 As a butcher he had much to learn but with 
 the knife he was an artist. In a short time he had 
 lifted the back fat and had the tongue cooking 
 over a fire. He commenced to eat when the meat 
 was but partly cooked. 
 
 "You're a devil of a feller !" remarked a voice 
 behind him. 
 
 Flopping wildly about he beheld a white man, 
 tanned to the color of an Indian, his hair long and 
 unkempt, his face smothered in whiskers. 
 
 "Who might ye be, a comin' out hyar an' 
 skeerin' all th' Injuns up into Canada by yer bold 
 ways ?" 
 
 "Have some grub. I belong with Jim Brid- 
 ger's outfit. Strayed away like a fool greenhorn. 
 Who are you?" 
 
 "Jim Baker, fresh from Green River. Reckon 
 I'll cut off a leetle more meat an' set it to 
 cookin'." 
 
 So this was the man who was indirectly respon- 
 sible for his keeping aloof from his mates until he 
 
i62 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 became lost, Lander mused. This shaggy creat- 
 ure was the man whose coming was so eagerly 
 looked forward to by Bridger. Lander was dis- 
 appointed. He watched Baker skilfully slice off 
 several portions and proceed to roast them. He 
 observed how he tossed a bit over his shoulder 
 but did not know this was an offering to ghosts. 
 
 Baker at last satisfied his enormous appetite 
 and produced a pipe from the bead-embroidered 
 holder worn around his neck. Filling this and 
 lighting it he puffed to the sky and earth and four 
 wind gods, then abruptly inquired: 
 
 "How 'bout Injuns?'' 
 
 "None round here. Ain't seen a one during my 
 tramp. Been going it alone for four days." 
 
 "Lawd a massy! But ye be some traveler!" 
 admired Baker. "An' ain't see' no Injuns ?" 
 
 "Nothing but wolves. There's two now look- 
 ing down at us from the top of the bluff behind 
 us." 
 
 "What's th' color o' their legs?" lazily asked 
 Baker without turning his head. 
 
 "Only their heads and shoulders show. Now 
 they're sneaking away." 
 
 Baker became silent, seeming to forget he was 
 not alone. Next he muttered to himself and 
 
FIVE WALKS 163 
 
 repeated something Lander thought was gibber- 
 ish, but which was a Snake charm against, evil 
 medicine; for Baker was as superstitious as the 
 Indians among whom he had Hved. 
 
 "How'd ye git lost?" he abruptly asked. 
 
 Lander explained, adding: 
 
 ''Bridger laughed at my thinking you might 
 pass the outfit without knowing it. But here you 
 are. The laugh will be on him." 
 
 "Most likely," gravely agreed Baker. "Ye're 
 a queer young cuss. Can't ye see ye got ahead o' 
 th' outfit? Meetin* me proves that. Ye walked 
 fast, prob'ly a bit skeered. Bridger halted an* 
 sent men back to find ye. He must be cussin' in 
 a way that'd do a man's heart good by this time. 
 While his men was goin* back ye swung out one 
 side an' passed th' outfit. I suttinly want to be 
 round when Jim lets out on ye." 
 
 Saying this Baker fished out his medicine bag 
 and cautiously opened it, screening the act with 
 his body. Tired of being ignored and criticized. 
 Lander took his rifle and strolled toward the 
 bluffs. 
 
 Baker was absorbed with his medicine and toolc 
 no notice of Lander's departure until he was well 
 under the bluff. Replacing the bag he glanced 
 
i64 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 about and beheld Lander behind a boulder, his 
 rifle aiming at two wolves. The wolves' heads 
 were all that was visible. 
 
 "Don't shoot!" yelled Baker. "Come back 
 here!" 
 
 He spoke too late. The rifle cracked and one 
 of the wolves came crashing down the side of the 
 bluff. It rolled to Lander's feet and caused him 
 to think he had lost his senses by exposing the 
 legs of a man. 
 
 "Good heavens!" he gasped, staggering back. 
 
 With an oath Baker ran to him, yelping : 
 
 "Wanter cook us, ye derned fool ?" 
 
 "What IS it?" faltered Lander, glaring at the 
 wolf's head and body and the pair of legs. 
 
 "Injuns spy in' on us. Now that yeVe salted 
 one o' them th' hull tribe'll be here after our ha'r." 
 
 With that he ripped aside the wolfskin and 
 revealed a warrior in full paint. One glance and 
 he muttered: 
 
 "Sin an' mis'ry! Jest as I feared. Black- 
 foot! Lawdy massy, but won't they walk it to 
 us! Wal, he's dead. Wish they all was. Git 
 yer sculp an' we'll be pickin' out a good place 
 to die in." 
 
FIVE WALKS . 165 
 
 "Scalp? I — I don't want it," shuddered Lan- 
 der. "I thought it was a wolf." 
 
 "Yer medicine must be mighty weak. Never 
 right to waste ha'r. This is a prime one, too. It 
 counts something to show a Blackfoot sculp. I'll 
 make a feast for my medicine an' give it th' 
 sculp." 
 
 Lander turned his head as the mountain man 
 whipped out his knife and quickly raised the war- 
 rior's scalp lock and thrust it into his hunting 
 shirt. Then he sounded the Snake cry of 
 defiance. 
 
 "You'll call them down on us," remonstrated 
 Lander. 
 
 "If they don't kill us ye'll make me die laffin'," 
 informed Baker. "FoUer me right pert. I've got 
 a mule hid back a piece, but mules can't save us. 
 It's for us to hole up where we can git water. 
 Load yer rifle an' be ready to drag in th' buf'ler 
 meat when I find a good place." 
 
 Baker scurried into the rocks near the river 
 and found an overhanging cliff with a small 
 alcove at its base. There they dragged the cow 
 and collected dry buffalo chips for fuel. If 
 closely besieged it would be impossible. Lander 
 believed, to cover the short distance to the river 
 
i66 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 without challenging death, but Baker smiled 
 grimly and said he would guarantee a full supply 
 of water. 
 
 "What we want to do first is to make a fire an' 
 cook up all the meat we can. Some of it we'll 
 jerk. Meat cured in th' sun will keep a good 
 spell." 
 
 As he finished speaking he grabbed Lander, 
 who was bending over the cow, and violently 
 hurled him backward. As he did so a dozen war 
 arrows stuck into the carcass. 
 
 "Th' derned cusses have come!" grunted 
 Baker, dropping behind a boulder and nursing 
 his rifle. 
 
Chapter VII 
 
 BLACKFOOT AND CROW 
 
 WnpHEY'RE shootin' from up thar," said 
 * Baker pointing to the top of the opposite 
 cliff. "Them are Siksika arrers, worst tribe o' 
 th* Blackfeet. They're worse 'n th' Bloods, an' 
 th' Bloods is worse'n th' Piegans, an' th' three 
 tribes o' th' Blackfeet is worse'n Sioux or Aricaras 
 in fightin' th' whites." 
 
 Then with awe in his voice he informed: 
 "Each tribe has medicine bundles what's most 
 amazin' strong. They worship Napi, th' Old 
 Man, an' he suttingly has took mighty good care 
 of *em so far. They're allers ag'in' us Americans, 
 but they'll take their trade to H. B. posts fast 
 'nough. There ain't a fur company west o' th' 
 Mississipp' that ain't tried to make peace with 'em 
 an' git a chance at their furs. Bridger 'n' me have 
 tried to ketch one o' th' devils alive to hold him 
 an' tame him so's we could have some one to take 
 167 
 
i68 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 a talk back to th' tribe. Lawdy massy, but there's 
 rich pickin' for th' trader what gits in. Reckon 
 McKenzie o' Fort Union will be th' first. He's 
 got a white hunter what speaks their lingo. WeVe 
 tried to git at 'em through some o' their neigh- 
 bors, but they are allers fightin' th' Sioux, Cree, 
 Assiniboins, Flatheads an' th' Snakes. I'd give 
 a season's profits if I had one o' their medicine 
 bundles." Then hastily, as if apologizing, "Not 
 that my medicine ain't strong 'nough, but some- 
 times ye can git a new medicine that'll work for 
 ye when yer old medicine gits tired." 
 
 "They seem to be very quiet. Perhaps they 
 are gone," suggested Lander. 
 
 "Ye make me feel like I did afore I ever come 
 to th' mountains," said Baker with a grim smile. 
 "Folks back East allers use to be tellin' 'bout th' 
 noble Injun! Gone away when they've got a fine 
 chance to cut white throats? Sho! I'm plumb 
 'shamed of ye. I've lived among Injuns an' like 
 some tribes. I know some I'd trust quicker'n I 
 would most whites. Their medicines is powerful 
 strong. Anybody oughter know that. But after 
 all's said they are the most onsartain varmints in 
 th' world. They ain't only half human. Younker, 
 did ye ever see a human that ye'd fed an' treated 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 169 
 
 • 
 to th' best fixin's in yer lodge who'd steal yer 
 hosses when he come to go away? Wal, that's 
 th' Injun's notion o' sayin', 'Much obleeged.' My 
 idee is never to give 'em any gifts. Jest ask th' 
 whole b'ilin' to a big feast an' raise half their 
 ha'r. T'other half'll be mighty sharp set to keep 
 peaceful for a while." 
 
 *T believe they've gone away," insisted Lander, 
 who was in no mood to listen to Baker's eccentric 
 observations. 
 
 "Some trick/' mumbled Baker thoughtfully. 
 "S'pose ye jest keep yer eyes to th' front while I 
 look at my medicine." 
 
 With great contempt for Baker's superstitions 
 Lander stared toward the river, seeing no sign of 
 the enemy except the fringe of arrows sticking 
 in the carcass of the buffalo. Baker faced toward 
 the cHff behind him, produced his medicine bag, 
 cautiously opened and closed it four times, and 
 muttered : 
 
 "That oughter crack hell open 'bout a mile if 
 it ain't lost its old kick. That last sculp, even if 
 I didn't kill it, oughter give any honest medicine 
 a heap o' guts. I'll b'ile some berries an' make 
 it a real feast first chance I git." 
 
 Lander by this time had discovered he was very 
 
I70 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 thirsty. And as Baker was absorbed with his 
 heathenish rites, the river but a few yards away 
 and no enemy in sight it seemed a simple matter 
 to advance and fill a hat with water. Baker 
 restored the medicine bag to the bosom of his 
 hunting shirt and turned in time to behold Lan- 
 der start for the river with a Blackfoot warrior 
 dropping from the heavens to alight within a few 
 feet of him. The long rawhide rope, dangling 
 from the edge of the cliff, was immediately util- 
 ized by a second warrior. 
 
 "Trouble woke up !" yelled Baker, snatching up 
 his rifle and shooting the warrior from the rope. 
 
 Clubbing his weapon he sprang to assist Lan- 
 der, who by this time had drawn his knife from 
 his boot. The Indian, although realizing he was 
 lost unless instantly reinforced, leaped at Lander 
 and attempted to run him through with a long 
 butcher-knife. 
 
 "Load your rifle! I'll take care of this one," 
 called out Lander, parrying the thrust. 
 
 Baker reversed his gun and proceeded to reload 
 it, his eyes staring admiringly at the young man's 
 unexpected display of talent. 
 
 "Rip him, boy!" he shouted. "Lawdy massy! 
 But that medicine o' mine is shore kickin' an' a 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 171 
 
 rarin' ! Fetched 'em right outer th' sky/' Then 
 anxiously: "But some things can be overdone. 
 No medicine oughter fetch in more trouble than 
 a man can dish away." 
 
 He glanced apprehensively at the swinging 
 rope, then back to the duelists circling about each 
 other. 
 
 *'Keep away. Baker! This is my game. Watch 
 the rope ! They crossed over from the other side. 
 That's why they were still so long." 
 
 *^Git after him," Baker anxiously urged. "He 
 must have a good medicine, or he'd never come 
 down here — Godfrey! Look out!" 
 
 The warrior suddenly shifted his tactics and 
 with a series of lightning-like thrusts took the 
 offensive. Baker cocked his rifle but dared not 
 fire at the dodging figures. He called on Lander 
 to look out, to leap to one side; and then came 
 the miracle. The warrior's knife leaped from 
 his hand and described a glittering arc that ended 
 in the racing river, and he went down with a 
 gush of blood from his throat. Lander, weak 
 with excitement and his exertions, stood trem- 
 bling and staring at his work. 
 
 Baker caught him by the arm and drew him in 
 under the cliff, loudly bawling: 
 
172 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "I'll trade ye a dozen packs o' prime beaver for 
 yer medicine!" 
 
 A howl of rage came from the top of the cliff, 
 while futile arrows rattled about the opening of 
 the alcove. But there was no further attempt to 
 descend the rope. 
 
 "Of course it was my medicine what fetched 
 'em down," declared Baker, fearful lest his praise 
 of Lander's medicine might incite jealousy. 
 "When I open that bag four times an' p'int it 
 towards a Injun he's pretty nigh bein' my meat. 
 Wish I could git out there an' sculp 'em !" 
 
 "That can wait," snarled Lander, overwrought 
 by his experience and his disgust at a practise 
 commonplace among mountain men. "They must 
 be coming in a bunch. Hear them yelling?" 
 
 "It's a small band or they'd been here afore 
 this/' growled Baker, wrinkling his brows. 
 "Reckon they're in more trouble. My medicine 
 has sot a trap for 'em. Reckon Badger's come 
 up. No, there ain't no sounds o' guns." 
 
 The clamor on top of the cliff now receded 
 although still audible. Baker pricked his ears 
 and from the ferocious chorus began to deduce 
 the truth. 
 
 "Crows jumped 'em!" he suddenly roared, 
 
"Keep away, Baker! This is my game." 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 173 
 
 darting from under the cliff and pausing- to tear 
 off the two scalps. *'Come on! They're ridin' 
 down th' south side o' th' cliff to the plain." 
 
 Securing his gun Lander raced after him. 
 They rounded the end of the cliff and came out 
 into the broken country. The river side of the 
 cliff was less than a hundred feet high, and 
 already the Blackfeet had withdrawn from it and 
 were retiring in a compact body and repulsing 
 the attacks of a much larger body of Indians. 
 
 'T know'd they was Crows by their yells. See 
 what large bows they use. Make 'em stout with 
 elk or bighorn an' rattlesnake skins. There's 
 mighty good medicine in a snake skin if ye know 
 th' right songs an' can git on th' good side of 
 it. But if ye fail it'll turn on ye like a rattler." 
 
 **What shall we do? Go help the Crows or 
 take our mules and ride for it ?" 
 
 "Stick along here. Crows won't hurt us. 
 They'll take yer mule an' mine if they find it. 
 If we should run away they'd take both guns. 
 Most amazin' thieves." 
 
 The two watched the haughty Blackfeet skil- 
 fully continue their retreat. Two of their war- 
 riors fell before the murderous arrow fire, but 
 were almost immediately scooped up and thrown 
 
174 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 across their ponies. The Crows, superb horse- 
 men, rushed them from all sides, riding low like 
 Comanches with only the tip of a moccasin show- 
 ing. But although outnumbering their heredi- 
 tary enemies, the Crows accomplished nothing 
 more than to slay or severely wound three men 
 and to drive them all away from the river. 
 
 Baker returned to the river and built a fire. 
 He began cooking buffalo meat and urged Lan- 
 der to eat. "They'll gobble down everything 
 when they git here," he warned. 
 
 Lander was not hungry. The spectacle of the 
 two dead warriors sickened him. 
 
 A rumbling clatter of hoofs and much demo- 
 niac yelling and the white men were surrounded 
 by the Crows. The first to arrive leaped to the 
 ground and began feasting on the buffalo. The 
 leader, a weathered wisp of a man, whose hair 
 and skin looked dead but whose eyes were two 
 fires, walked up to Lander and yanked the rifle 
 from his hand. Lander reached to his boot. 
 
 "Keep away from that knife!" snarled Baker. 
 "Jest smile." 
 
 The leader wheeled on Baker and reached out 
 to appropriate his rifle. The mountain man 
 laughed in his face and taunted: 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 175 
 
 "Black Arrow can not take scalps, so he must 
 take his friend's rifle." 
 
 The Indian drew back, then recognized Baker 
 and sullenljr thrust out his hand in greeting and 
 said: 
 
 "My young men need guns. But you are our 
 friend. We will take only one gun. That shall 
 pay for saving your lives." 
 
 At this Baker became all Indian. He slapped 
 his breast haughtily and in the tongue of the 
 Absaroke said : 
 
 "Chief of the Sparrowhawk people, look up 
 the river bank. You will find two dead Blackfoot 
 dogs there. Here are their scalps. Why does 
 Black Arrow come riding in like a foolish Indian 
 raising the buffalo and scaring his white friend's 
 game away ? Black Arrow has spoiled our hunt- 
 ing just as the killing was beginning. Why did 
 he not keep away till we had killed more Black- 
 feet ? Shall we give him a gun for that ?" 
 
 The dead Blackfeet and their scalps now 
 flaunted in the chiefs face carried pardon for the 
 trapper's insolence. The Absaroke, or Crows, 
 could forgive much in a man who had killed two 
 of their terrible foes. There was a rush to exam- 
 ine the slain warriors, and when it was found that 
 
176 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 one was killed by a knife, although the two loaded 
 rifles had not made that necessary, the chief 
 reflected the respectful attitude of his followers 
 when he asked : 
 
 "Why use the knife when you had guns?'' 
 
 "Why waste lead on those dogs?" countered 
 Baker. "We need our rifles for game, not for 
 killing Blackfeet. My young brother is mighty 
 knife-fighter." Then in English. "Where d'ye 
 I'arn th' knife, younker?" 
 
 "Papa Clair." 
 
 "Loaded an' primed!" Then in Absaroke: 
 "There is no warrior in your band who can touch 
 him with a knife without losing blood. He is big 
 medicine. Stand your best man before him. If 
 he brings blood without losing blood you shall 
 keep the rifle. If my young brother's medicine is 
 the stronger you shall not take the rifle." 
 
 To Lander and scarcely able to conceal his 
 anxiety he said : "I've told 'em they ain't got a 
 man that can tech ye with a knife without bein' 
 blooded. If Papa Clair I'arned ye th' knife ye 
 oughter be prime. Have I spoke too strong?" 
 
 "I don't think so," Lander modestly replied. 
 "Papa Clair said I knew all he knew." 
 
 "Glory be! Don't kill. Jest prove ye're best 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 177 
 
 man." To the chief : "Got any braves who believe 
 in their medicine?" 
 
 Black Arrow scowled at the insolence of the 
 challenge and yelled to his men. One of them, 
 wearing much red cloth as a fringe for his leg- 
 gings, leaped from his pony and pulling his knife 
 ran toward Lander. With a most savage expres- 
 sion on his haughty face he held the knife upright 
 before his eyes, then lowered it and contemptu- 
 ously addressed Lander : 
 
 "He says he'll cut th' sacred totem o' th' Crows 
 (the Swastika cross) on yer face, then cut yer 
 throat. How's yer medicine?" 
 
 "I don't know," muttered Lander, inwardly 
 flinching before the warrior's ferocious bearing. 
 "But I know what Papa Clair has told me." 
 
 "Then ye know 'nough to give him his needin's 
 with one hand tied to yer foot. He's waitin'. 
 Git after him an' when they ain't looking' I'll 
 open my medicine bag at him. If our two medi- 
 cines can't fetch him nothin' short o' th' devil 
 can." 
 
 Lander had no heart for the business. He 
 resented Baker's forcing him into the trial. He 
 had fought and killed one Indian to save his life. 
 But this contest, merely to prove his superiority, 
 
178 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 was not to his taste. However^ the brave was 
 growing impatient and sneering openly as he 
 beHeved he read the other's hesitancy. With a 
 flash of his hand Lander drew Papa Clair's gift 
 knife and stood on guard. 
 
 The Indians exclaimed in admiration as they 
 beheld the weapon. The haft was embellished 
 with much silver of Spanish workmanship and 
 there was a fretwork of the white metal on the 
 upper half of the big blade. 
 
 Lander's opponent endeavored to rush in and 
 bewilder his man with repeated onslaughts. His 
 point streaked back and forth, all but ripping the 
 skin above the eyes. For a minute Lander 
 worked only on the defensive. Then anger grew 
 up in his heart and calmed his nerves and he 
 stopped giving ground and began advancing. 
 Each forward step was taken with a precision that 
 suddenly stilled the chorus of jeers. And as he 
 advanced he formed his purpose and drove his 
 man toward the river. His blade parried and 
 menaced but refrained from touching the painted 
 breast, although it was obvious to the spectators 
 it could have been fleshed to the hilt several 
 times. 
 
 The Indian suspected he was being played with 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 179 
 
 and sought to keep clear of the river, but each 
 attempt to work one side resulted in a vicious 
 slash of the glittering steel that fenced him in. 
 The cries of his friends now told the warrior he 
 was on the brink of the bank and he made a last 
 desperate rally and flung himself forward reck- 
 lessly. Instantly the stabbing knife was pushed 
 to one side and lifting his hand Lander struck 
 heavily with the haft, the blow falling full between 
 the scowling eyes and knocking the man into the 
 icy current. Lander had had his man at his 
 mercy and had vanquished him without losing or 
 drawing a drop of blood. 
 
 "He has big knife medicine," reluctantly 
 admitted Black Arrow. Then to Lander he spoke 
 rapidly. Baker interpreted : 
 
 "He says if ye will come to live with him in 
 th' valley o 'th* Big Horn he'll give ye a big lodge 
 an' his darter for a wife. Th' Crows is allers 
 fond o' havin' white men live with 'em. He says 
 he'll let ye handle th' Crow trade in buf'ler robes 
 an' bighorn leather. Th' robes is mighty fine an' 
 it's a chance to trade for a mighty fine profit 
 that most old mountain men would jump at. If 
 I wa'n't tied up with th' Snakes I'd jump at it 
 myself." 
 
i8o KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Tell him I am with Jim Bridger, that I want 
 him to bring the Crow trade to Bridger on Green 
 River." 
 
 "Jim Bridger won*t hold ye to yer bargain 
 when he knows ye can better yerself. Crow 
 women are mighty likely-lookin' women." 
 
 "Tell him what I say. Sometimes I'll visit him 
 and teach his young men how to handle the 
 knife." 
 
 Baker choked back a laugh and muttered : 
 
 "Lawdy massy! First trip out here an' ye're 
 puttin' on more airs then Kit Carson or Jim 
 Bridger hisself." Then gravely: 
 
 "But that's th' way to hoot when yer medicine 
 is good an' strong. Makes yer medicine feel proud 
 an' keen to w^ork for ye, too. I'll tell him what 
 ye say. Don't do any hurt to make a friend o' 
 him an' git first whack at his trade. They've been 
 carryin' th' most of it to Fort Union." 
 
 Black Arrow was disappointed at Lander's 
 refusal to join his tribe, but readily promised to 
 take a good trade to the Green River rendezvous, 
 but vowed he would deliver it to none but Lan- 
 der. The warrior who had been knocked into the 
 river now came up to Lander with^ as the latter 
 BSelieved, hostile intentions. There was a knob 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW i8i 
 
 the size of an egg between his eyes. Baker was 
 in time w^ith his warning : 
 
 *Th' critter don't mean no harm." 
 
 The Indian gestured for permission to examine 
 the knife that had conquered him. It was a beau- 
 tiful weapon, and the brave saved his pride by 
 attributing his defeat to the medicine in it rather 
 than to Lander's skill. He gazed at it longingly, 
 then led up his pony and offered to trade. Lan- 
 der might have been tempted as the animal was 
 far superior to the average run of horse-flesh 
 owned by mountain men, but Baker warned : 
 
 ''Don't swap yer medicine. Ye're big guns with 
 'em now. I'll tell 'em th' medicine won't work 
 for no one but yerself. Ye're lucky if yer medi- 
 cine ain't mad at ye for even thinkin' o' doin' 
 sech a thing." 
 
 So Lander refused, and Baker softened it down 
 in interpreting it, then drew Black Arrow to one 
 side and talked with him some minutes. Coming 
 back to Lander he explained: 
 
 "Chief says them Blackfeet, 'bout a hundred 
 'n' fifty of 'em, are jest back from visitin' their 
 friends, th' 'Rapahos, an' on their way to a big 
 band now campin' in Jackson's Hole near th' 
 Three Tetons. Says th' big band held up a H. B. 
 
i82 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 trader an' took a British flag an' forty packs o' 
 beaver from him. If these Crows had put up a 
 real fight they could 'a* wiped out this small band, 
 as there must be more'n two hundred here. But 
 it was Injun style — gallop lickety-split, shoot 
 arrers while t'other side run away, then quit an' 
 never git down to real business. Th' Blackfeet 
 will fetch their friends back to chaw th' 
 Crows up." 
 
 Several young bucks who had followed the 
 river down now began riding back and forth and 
 Waving their robes. Black Arrow leaped on his 
 pony and rode up a low bluff. The bucks had 
 signaled "enemy." 
 
 Lander mounted his mule and followed the 
 chief. Far in the east was dust. Black Arrow's 
 sharp old eye studied it for a minute; then he 
 turned to Lander and drew his hand across his 
 forehead in the sign for a hat, or white men. 
 Lander was obtuse and the chief touched his hand 
 and then passed it up and down his arms and 
 body. Lander understood this : "All white," and 
 yelled down to Jim Baker : 
 
 "Bet it's Bridger's outfit. Chief says they're 
 white men." 
 
 Baker repeated this to the Indians surrounding 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 183 
 
 him, and instantly the war-Hke preparations 
 ceased. The bucks now came tearing up the river 
 making the sign of the hat. As Black Arrow 
 rejoined his men there was a flash of action caused 
 by a brave bringing in the mule Baker had con- 
 cealed before surprising Lander at the river. 
 Baker appropriated the animal without bothering 
 to explain, and the warrior pulled an ax. 
 
 Lander drove his mule between the two and 
 pulled his knife. Black Arrow intervened in time 
 to prevent a tragedy. Explanations followed and 
 peace was restored just as the scouts came up to 
 announce the supposed enemy was some thirty 
 white men, riding as fast as their weary mounts 
 could bring them. 
 
 Advising Black Arrow to remain where he was 
 and keep all his men with him Baker motioned to 
 Dander and rode down the river to meet their 
 friends. At the head of the band were Bridger 
 and Papa Clair. Lander, knowing the strength 
 of the outfit, saw that a dozen or more men had 
 been left behind, doubtless to bring up the pack 
 animals. 
 
 "My young friend!" joyfully called out Papa 
 Clair, swinging up his hand. "We heard shots! 
 We feared! We rode!" 
 
i84 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Howdy, Jim," sang out Baker. 
 
 "Howdy, Jim. Did you find him, or did he 
 find you?" asked Bridger, nodding coldly 
 toward Lander. 
 
 "Found each other. Had a muss with Black- 
 feet. He shot one afore th' scrimmage. Then I 
 got one with my old gun, an' he got another with 
 his knife. Big medicine in that knife o' his'n if 
 any one asks ye. Then Black Arrer with his 
 Crows come along an' drove th' skunks off. Now 
 th' old cuss is back there waitin' to be told he's a 
 big Injun." 
 
 "Lander, you've held up my outfit two days," 
 sternly informed Bridger. "You're too much 
 trouble to suit me. I'm sending an express back 
 to St. Louis. Make ready to go with it." 
 
 "I stay in the mountains if I ever get into them, 
 Mr. Bridger. If I can't work for you perhaps I 
 can work for some other outfit. If no one will 
 hire me I'll turn free trader." 
 
 "Free trader?" scoffed Bridger. "You a 
 trader? Where's your outfit? If you had any^ 
 goods who'd trade with you? You're crazy." 
 
 ^'M'sieu Bridger, but you are speaking to my 
 young friend," gently remonstrated Papa Clair. 
 
 "You can't fix a fight on me, Papa, if you try; 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 185 
 
 for a year. Lander's all right but he's out of 
 place up here. When we stopped for two days 
 and searched for him we were giving the A. F. C. 
 that much advantage in trying to make the ren- 
 dezvous ahead of us. It won't do." 
 
 "Ye got plenty o' time, Jim," drawled Baker. 
 "Then ag'in ye ain't goin' to lose no trade o' th' 
 younker. He licked one o' Black Arrer's smart- 
 est Injuns in a knife fight an' th' chief wants 
 to take him for his son. Failin' in that he says 
 he'll fetch his trade to Green River an' turn it 
 to th' younker, which means to ye. Hard to beat 
 them Crows for robes made gay with porcupine 
 quills an' fancy sewin'. Reckon he'd clean up all 
 th' Crow trade if he took a outfit an' went an* 
 lived with 'em." 
 
 Papa Clair's white mustaches went up as he 
 smiled in keen enjoyment Bridger's face broke 
 into a wide grin and he whimsically surrendered : 
 
 "Reckon the express can git along without you, 
 Lander. Only after this either keep ahead, or 
 behind, or with us. Now we'll have a talk with 
 the chief. Come along, Baker. The rest of you 
 better stay back here till I've smoked with the 
 old cuss." 
 
 The men gathered around Lander and eagerly 
 
i86 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 listened to his experience. That he had killed 
 two Blackfeet was enough to erase his name from 
 the roll of greenhorns, and even Porker treated 
 him civilly. Long Simons acted most peculiar 
 however. He kept in the background, yet con- 
 spicuous because of his red belt, and alternated 
 between deep chuckles and heavy frowns. Lan- 
 der liked him, and leaving his mule went to him, 
 remarking : 
 
 *'You don't seem very glad to see me back." 
 
 "Been trailin' ye ever since ye failed to turn 
 up on th' second night. Jest now IVe got some 
 trouble an' some fun of my own on my hands. 
 Stick round an' ye'll see what I mean." 
 
 "Here come the two Jims," answered Papa 
 Clair. 
 
 "Everything is all right, men," called out 
 Bridger. "We'll camp beyond the Crows. No 
 quarreling, remember. They'll treat us right if 
 we treat them right. What now, Baker?" 
 
 The last as Baker gave a snort of anger and 
 slid from his mule, threw aside his rifle and dis- 
 carded his belt. Lander was amazed to behold 
 Long Simons removing his red belt and weapons 
 and throwing them on the ground, his broad face 
 grinning sheepishly. 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 187 
 
 "Holy blue! Are they crazy?" gasped Papa 
 Clair. 
 
 "What's the matter, Jim?" demanded Bridger, 
 his gray eyes twinkling. 
 
 "Jest a sort of a childish game. This lank, 
 long perrarie dog let on at th' last rendezvous 
 that my fightin' with grizzlies, when I killed two 
 with my knife, was all a bundle o' lies. I swore 
 I'd make him eat his words if he ever dared come 
 back to th' mountains. An' I'm goin' to do it." 
 
 "Talk is cheap," sneered Long Simons. "Ye've 
 kicked half-starved Injuns round so long that ye 
 forgit white men don't crawl when ye bleat. 
 Come along. I'll show ye one grizzly ye can't 
 lick. Afore I'm done with ye, ye'll be tellin' th' 
 boys th' truth. What ye killed with a knife was 
 only two sick wolves." 
 
 "No biting or gouging," commanded Bridger. 
 "This is no time for fun. After this all hoss- 
 play must be finished at St. Charles." 
 
 "He won't have nothin' more to settle after I 
 git through with him," declared Long Simons as 
 he stripped off his shirt. "His troubles is about 
 to be ended Come to these arms, ye leetle 
 grizzly tamer." 
 
 With a roar of anger Baker jumped into him. 
 
i88 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 The battles Uander had witnessed at St. Charles 
 were tame affairs compared with this. With 
 hoots of joy the mountain men formed a wide 
 ring. Some of the Indians galloped up and to 
 them Bridger explained that two of his men were 
 playing a game. The two combatants discarded 
 all finesse and came together with the intention 
 of sticking until only one was able to stand. 
 
 Lander held his breath at the terrific punish- 
 ment each inflicted and received. It seemed 
 impossible that the human frame could survive 
 such assaults. Baker was an inch shorter than 
 Simons and quite a few pounds lighter. But his 
 technique was that of a panther, a tremendous 
 driving power that allowed his antagonist no 
 breathing spell; an implacable hurricane that 
 would rage until there was nothing left to assail. 
 Long Simons physically was far above the aver- 
 age caliber of man^ and grunted with joy in 
 finding a full fight was brought to him. 
 
 From the moment they clashed it was almost 
 impossible to distinguish them. They became a 
 revolving mass, two dynamos that whirled over 
 on the ground like a fly-wheel. When they came 
 erect it was only to fall again. 
 
 There was no waiting^ no cautious testing of 
 
BLACKFOOT AND CROW 189 
 
 the other's strength. Each was confident of his 
 own might, and sought to terminate the contest 
 as speedily as possible. There was no defensive 
 against offensive. It was offensive against offen- 
 sive, two separate plants confidently conceived 
 and meeting in furious collision. 
 
 "Jeer-ru-sa-leem !" screamed Rummy as some 
 invisible force seemed to hurl the two apart and 
 then bring them smashing together. The Indians, 
 now generally attracted, watched with glittering 
 eyes and low grunts of amazement. 
 
 Inside of five minutes of incessant, whirlwind 
 tactics both were practically stripped to the buff. 
 Suddenly Long Simons' arm slipped under 
 Baker's arm and up over the shoulder with the 
 broad palm smothering* the face and pressing 
 backward. 
 
 "Give in, ye babby bear fighter!" gasped 
 Simons. 
 
 Lander realized that with a bit more pressure 
 Baker's neck would break should he refuse to 
 release the pressure of his own left arm. Back 
 rocked his head, his wind shut off by the hand 
 plastered over mouth a.nd nose. Then his two 
 fists came together on Simons' throat, each travel- 
 ing only a few inches. The big fellow relaxed his 
 
I90 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 terrible hold, tottered and fell with blood stream- 
 ing from his mouth and nose. 
 
 He groaned and rolled over on his back, glared 
 up into Baker's wild face and tried to get back 
 on his feet. 
 
 *'Was them babby b*ars?" faintly asked Baker, 
 his bloody knuckles drawn back for a final blow. 
 
 Long Simons wet his hot lips and pumped for 
 air. His voice sounded ridiculously small for so 
 large a man as he weakly replied : 
 
 "Reg'lar full grown 'uns, Jim. Extry big 'uns. 
 Belt's on th' ground some'ers." 
 
Chapter VIII 
 
 along the river trail 
 
 TTJRIDGER now made every effort to reach the 
 *^ rendezvous on Green River ahead of the 
 A. F. C. outfit. He hurried his company by Inde- 
 pendence Rock, through the Devil's Gate, then up 
 the Sweetwater for six days to the divide. 
 Although it was uncomfortably warm on the 
 plains the water in the camp-kettles was coated 
 with a quarter of an inch of ice the night they 
 camped on the divide. 
 
 Five days later they arrived at the Green — 
 named Rio Verde by the Spanish explorers in 
 1818, and known as the Siskadee, or Prairie Hen, 
 by the Crows. Camp was pitched a few miles 
 from Horse Creek, and on the first day was 
 invaded by several hundred Nez Perces and Flat- 
 heads — who never flattened the head — and fully 
 three hundred traders and trappers. Many of 
 the trappers were Bridger's men who had win- 
 
 191 
 
192 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 tere'd in the mountains. The others belonged to 
 Nathaniel J. Wyeth's New England outfit, or 
 were free trappers with small outfits. 
 
 A' small tent was speedily erected for a saloon 
 and Lander was appointed to handle the liquor 
 trade, both whites and Indians being furious for 
 ^drink. Lander was kept busy as long as he could 
 stand on his feet, peddling out whisky at five dol- 
 lars a pint. Then Papa Clair took his place. 
 
 There ensued the usual amount of fighting and 
 gambling. Beaver pelts were the only medium 
 of exchange, and as these were dumped on the 
 buffalo robes of the gamblers, small fortunes 
 quickly changed hands. Jim Baker, overfond of 
 drink, set the pace for three days. Then Bridger 
 went to him and suggested : 
 
 " 'Bout enough for this time, eh, Jim ?" 
 
 "I'm a derned fool. Lemme snooze an' I'll 
 wake up sober's a b'iled owl." 
 
 He was as good as his word and reported for 
 active duty. He was desirous of getting clear of 
 the camp and Bridger sent him to raise a cache 
 of beaver near the mouth of Horse Creek. 
 
 The big spree ended and the wounds were 
 dressed. The trappers began buying their out- 
 fits of blankets, red shirts, tobacco and trade trin- 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 193 
 
 kets. At the end of seven days Baker and his 
 party returned with eight packs of beaver, run- 
 ning a hundred pounds to the pack and worth 
 about ten dollars a pound in St. Louis. 
 
 Baker announced having SQQn Indian signs, 
 several smokes, and said a large number of Black- 
 feet were watching the rendezvous through spies 
 and were discouraged from attacking only 
 because of the large number of reds and whites. 
 
 Lander, not given to drink, made an ideal 
 whisky clerk from a trader's point of view. He 
 found the work too repulsive and asked Bridger 
 to give him other employment. 
 
 "Some one had to do it," said Bridger. "If s 
 about all you can do. If no trader did it we 
 could git beaver without it. But so long as one 
 does it all must do it or make no trade. However 
 I'll find something else for you." 
 
 If Bridger was inclined to resent Lander's fas- 
 tidiousness he quickly changed when Black 
 Arrow and a hundred braves rode into camp and 
 announced that they had robes to trade, but 
 would do business with no one but the Medicine 
 Knife. Lander, under Bridger's tutelage, quickly 
 traded the robes. Lander enjoyed this experi- 
 ence much as no liquor figured in the deal. 
 
194 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 The Crows, like the Comanches far south, did 
 not drink at this time, having yet to learn the 
 vice through associating v^ith the Assiniboins. 
 Exchanging their robes only for goods, they were 
 always well-dressed after the Indian fashion, 
 wealthy in horses and quite the plutocrats of the 
 Missouri Valley Indians. 
 
 While not the best examples of robe making the 
 Crow robes were beautiful in workmanship, while 
 as for the quantity the nation was the best pro- 
 ducer of all the plains tribes. Bridger did not 
 intend to transport the robes to St. Louis if he 
 could possibly help it, and yet he planned to turn 
 the trade to a good account. 
 
 After the robes were traded the Indians 
 received many flattering offers for some of their 
 horses. They refused to part with any of their 
 animals with the exception of Black Arrow's 
 offer of two ponies for Lander's knife. Lander 
 refused and Bridger told him he was foolish. 
 
 Papa Clair gravely protested : 
 
 "Non, non, M'sieu Bridger. If only a piece of 
 sharp steel — ^yes. But it is more than a knife. It 
 is one of a family of five knives. It makes the 
 heart stout ; it brings good fortune." 
 
 "It's blame good medicine. I'll give my rifle for 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 195 
 
 it an' stand th' chance o' my medicine gettin* mad 
 at it," spoke up Jim Baker. 
 
 Although much less superstitious than Baker 
 there was the Indian's belief in medicine in Brid- 
 ger, and he gravely offered Lander a hundred 
 dollars gold for the weapon. 
 
 "It loses its medicine if it's sold," Lander 
 explained. 
 
 Papa Clair heard these offers with much un- 
 easy tugging at his mustaches. After the Indians 
 had withdrawn he said : 
 
 *^M'sieu Bridger, M'sieu Baker, you are my old 
 friends. Now behold — I have four knives, all of 
 the same family. I can not give a pointed weapon 
 away. I can not sell it, as that kills its soul. But 
 see ! I will let each of you have one of the knives. 
 Yes, I will do that. Whenever I want them 
 back; if you have not lost them, I will ask and 
 they become mine. 
 
 "They are very jealous. You must carry no 
 other knife in the same belt. Best to wear them 
 in the boot. And they are still mine." 
 
 "Demed if ye ain't all right!" joyously cried 
 Baker. "My medicine didn't oughter rip and 
 tear s'long as it's only lent to me. If ye ever want 
 any ha'r raised jest call on Jim Baker." 
 
196 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Bridger, less demonstrative, caught the old 
 Juan's hand and shook it warmly. It surprised 
 Lander to see two such stout fighting men willing 
 to attribute fetish powers to a piece of steel. He 
 understood Papa Clair's sentiment concerning his 
 knives and he catered to it. But here were two 
 veteran mountain men eager to pay a rare price 
 for what after all was a well-sharpened knife 
 ornamented with silver. 
 
 Bridger interrupted his meditations by abruptly 
 offering him four hundred dollars a year if he 
 would return with the Crows to their home in the 
 Big Horn Valley and live with them during the 
 winter and collect their trade for the Rocky 
 Mountain Fur Company. 
 
 "They like you. They reckon you're big medi- 
 cine. Your knife has brought you good luck." 
 
 Lander hesitated and Bridger urged : 
 
 "You can't go back to St. Louis. You've got 
 to winter out here somewheres. They'll treat 
 you mighty fine, and you'll have a chance to 
 prove that Jim Bridger didn't tell no lies when he 
 talked about the Yellowstone country." 
 
 "If you go then I shall go with you, my 
 friend," added Papa Clair. "Caves of war-paint ! 
 Name of a pipe!" 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAII] 197 
 
 And his eyes glittered at the tKought of new 
 adventures in the marvelous countr^^; Bridger had 
 so often described. 
 
 Lander wanted above all things to return to St. 
 Louis in the fall. To go until another summer 
 without seeing Susette was sickening to contem- 
 plate. Yet a dead man and the inimical shadow 
 of the A. F. C. barred his homeward path. 
 
 "I'll think about it," he sighed. "I suppose 
 it's the only thing I can do." 
 
 "I'll throw in a suit of black broadcloth — the 
 best you can buy in St. Louis," added Bridger. 
 
 "It's a trade," sighed Lander, "unless my 
 knife-medicine makes it possible for me to go 
 back to St. Louis." 
 
 Bridger w^as highly pleased. He had reached 
 the rendezvous ahead of the A. F. C. outfit and 
 had secured the cream of the trade. He had made 
 the Upper Missouri outfit admit his importance 
 by sending their men to head him off and to com- 
 pete with him. Now by extraordinary luck he 
 stood in position to secure the bulk of the rich 
 Crow trade. While enjoying these delectable 
 feelings one of his men rode up and announced a 
 small band was coming down the river with a 
 white man in the lead. 
 
198 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Theyll be the A\ F. C. outfit," said Bridger, 
 and he smiled broadly. 
 
 "Rich pickings they'll git," snorted Baker. 
 
 'Tm glad they've come," said Bridger. "I had 
 them in mind while Lander was trading in the 
 Crow robes for me. I don't want to pack 'em to 
 St. Louis. The A. F. C. outfit will take 'em back 
 to Fort Union rather than go empty-handed. 
 Want to come along. Lander ?" 
 
 Lander flushed with pleasure at the honor of 
 this invitation and mounting his mule followed 
 his chief up the river to meet the newcomers. 
 There were a score of Indians, full bloods and 
 breeds, in the outfit. One white man rode in 
 advance. On beholding Bridger and Lander he 
 spurred ahead to greet them. 
 
 Lander gave a loud cry and nearly fell from 
 his mule. Bridger reined in and stared in 
 amazement. 
 
 "Malcom Phinny!" he ejaculated. 
 
 "No one else," replied Phinny, smiling genially. 
 
 •A. wonderful wave of joy suffused Lander's 
 whole being. By some miracle the dead was 
 alive. The path to St. Louis and Susette was 
 open. This tremendous discovery that no homi- 
 cide was charged against him forced him to for- 
 
KLONG THE RIVER TRAIU 199 
 
 get his rancor against Phinny. Never had he 
 been so pleased to meet a man. 
 
 "Thought you was dead," he faltered. 
 
 "Head's thick," Phinny good-naturedly 
 replied. "Bullet creased my skull. Unconscious 
 for a bit. Men thought I was done for. I took 
 the company's boat right after that fool Tilton 
 went up on the Golden ^Queen to bother you. It 
 was a fair fight and what he did wasn't any of my 
 doings. I don't bring any quarrel up here 
 against you. How's trade, Mr. Bridger?" 
 
 "Fair — I've got some mighty fine Crow robes 
 you can have if you want 'em." 
 
 "Robes are good, but we're after beaver." 
 
 "Don't seem to be much beaver left. You 
 oughter got here sooner." 
 
 Phinny swore and in deep disgust complained : 
 
 "That's what I told Mr. McKenzie, but he was 
 so sure I'd be in time he held me back. What'll 
 you take in trade for the robes ?" 
 
 "Beaver, or an order on your St. Louis office 
 for cash." 
 
 "Then it'll have to be an order at the market 
 price. And, Lander, I'm really glad to see you. 
 There's no fight between us, I repeat, so far as 
 I'm concerned." 
 
200 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "I'm glad I didn't kill you. Let it go at that." 
 
 "Fighting is all foolishness. I've learned my 
 lesson and now know what sort of a fool I've 
 been. But don't it beat the devil how Mr. Brid- 
 ger gets all the beaver ?" 
 
 "First come gits it," said Brldger. "If I built a 
 post near Fort Union, Kenneth McKenzie would 
 run me out in one season. But when he chases 
 me through the mountains he's playing my game. 
 I'll show you the robes. They're extry fine." 
 
 Phinny fell back with his outfit and Bridger 
 rode on to camp with Lander and his face was 
 grave and thoughtful. Lander was impelled to 
 say : 
 
 "What's the matter ? They can't get anything. 
 You've cleaned up every skin." 
 
 "I've been waiting for 'em to come an' take the 
 robes off my hands. But the feller with Phinny 
 — the guide — notice him?" 
 
 "Indian, and a filthy one." 
 
 "He's old Deschamps — Red River half-breed. 
 Came to Missouri from the Pembina country 
 four years ago. Killed Governor Robert Semple 
 in the Red River massacre back in 'sixteen. He's 
 robbed Fort Union twice and makes a practise of 
 robbing and whipping Injun trappers. Doesn't 
 
[ALONG THE RIVER TRAIU 201 
 
 hesitate to kill 'em when he 'lows he won't git 
 caught — bad devil. 
 
 "Ten in his family. Three are grown-up sons 
 — all bad. They trail round with another breed 
 outfit — Jack Rem's family. 
 
 "The A. F. C. made a great mistake when they 
 brought those cusses to the Missouri to act as 
 interpreters to the Assiniboins an' Crees. Young 
 Phinny better keep his eyes open if he travels 
 much with a Deschamps." 
 
 Papa Clair was astounded and much displeased 
 when Lander broke the news to him. Finally his 
 old face lighted and his frosty blue eyes began 
 to sparkle. 
 
 "It can be done!" he rejoiced. "Name of a 
 knife! It w^ill work out after the wish of one's 
 heart. He is here. You want your satisfy. He 
 must challenge you. I will see that he does. 
 This time it shall be with cold steel." 
 
 "But there's no cause," protested Lander. 
 
 "There is; he is alive. You suffered mucH, 
 thinking him dead. You were attacked and 
 forced to flee. He is responsible. Leave it 
 to me." 
 
 "No, no, Papa Clair. No more duels for me. 
 I'm mighty glad he is alive. He's glad too. 
 
202 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Admits it's foolish to bring a fight up here. Now 
 there is nothing to stop me going back to St. 
 Louis." 
 
 "No more duels !" gasped Papa Qair. "Name 
 of a dog! It is good I am near the end of the 
 trail. When I was young — bah!" 
 
 For some minutes he brooded on the decadence 
 of the times, Lander humbly waiting for him to 
 speak. Finally he showed some of his old spirit 
 and philosophically declared : 
 
 "After all it is the fashion. It can be done. 
 Men make high names by exploring. If they are 
 called liars they can challenge. At least our win- 
 ter in the Big Horn Valley will give us the chance 
 to prove whether M'sieu Bridger spoke true. 
 
 "We will go to the Yellowstone. If we do not 
 find the cave of war-paint I will challenge Brid- 
 ger. Sacre Bleu! Is one to listen to such stories 
 if they be false?" 
 
 "Papa Clair, don^t you see there is no longer 
 any need of my wintering with the Crows ? I am 
 free to return to St. Louis," reminded Lander. 
 
 With a groan of disgust Papa Clair turned 
 aside and lamented: "Ever so! M'm'selle's 
 eyes outshine the torch of glory; the torch of 
 power. 
 
ALONG Trite RIVER TRAIL 203 
 
 "Well, well. Come, old man. One must have 
 been a fool to be wise. Huh! Is it for you to 
 talk? And behold, M'sieu Bridger will be the 
 disappoint." 
 
 Lander surmised as much and it was with con- 
 siderable misgivings that he went in search of his 
 chief. He found him completing the transaction 
 of the robes with Phinny. He waited until 
 Phinny superintended the carrying away of the 
 robes, but before he could speak another interrup- 
 tion occurred. This was a woebegone looking 
 man, who announced he had just arrived from 
 down-river. 
 
 "If you want a good man I*d like to hire out 
 with you. I'm Ferguson of the H. B. I do not 
 want to go back to headquarters. Blackfeet 
 robbed me of forty packs of beaver. Once before 
 I lost the season's furs.'* 
 
 "Lucky they didn't take your hair," said 
 Bridger. "I'm afraid I can't hire you except as a 
 trapper. I'll give you credit for an outfit." 
 
 Lander tugged Bridger's arm and drew him 
 aside and whispered : 
 
 "Send him after the Crow trade. Seeing that 
 I didn't kill Phinny I'm going back to St. Louis 
 in the fall." 
 
204 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "The thunder you are!" exploded Bridger. 
 "What am I paying you wages for?" 
 
 "Then I must go without any wages." 
 
 "How? I have no mules to spare for men who 
 quit me." 
 
 "Then I'll walk." 
 
 Bridger grew calmer and studied him sharply. 
 
 "It's the little girl, I take it," he finally 
 remarked. "Old Hurry-Up Parker's girl." 
 
 Lander confessed by coloring highly. Bridger 
 frowned and pursed his lips. Abruptly he said : 
 
 "I've seen her. 'Bout as big as a kitten. She's 
 turned your head. I don't blame you. You're a 
 fool but you've got a mighty pretty excuse. 
 
 "See here, Ferguson, I can use you after all. 
 You shall winter with the Crows and bring their 
 hunt here next season. I'll take all their robes, 
 but it's beaver I want Git 'em after beaver. I'll 
 draw up the papers later and Baker will git up 
 your equipment." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Bridger. Perhaps you can 
 give me a writing, saying I lost my furs to the 
 Blackfeet I'll send it to Fort Union by Mr. 
 Phinny where one of the Red River breeds can 
 take it up the Saskatchewan post. If the Black- 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 205 
 
 feet take the furs there In trade the company can 
 seize 'em, as my marks are on the packs.'* 
 
 "I'll give you the writing," agreed Bridger. 
 "Why not put in it a' agreement between me an' 
 you as agent for the company, that if by any 
 chance or risk I manage to git the furs back from 
 the Blackfeet I pay the H. B. ten per cent, an' 
 keep the rest. I don't stand a chance in a million 
 of gettin' 'em. An' the H. B. has lost 'em for 
 good." 
 
 Ferguson was eager to assent to this proposi- 
 tion, as he well knew the H. B. otherwise would 
 never see the value of a single skin should the 
 packs be recovered by any English or American 
 traders. During the course of the day the agree- 
 ment was drawn up and signed and given to 
 Phinny, who promised to send it by express to 
 the Saskatchewan post. This done, Ferguson 
 was duly employed as Crow agent for the Rocky 
 Mountain Company. 
 
 Lander walked on air as he moved about the 
 camp and visualized his return to St. Louis. 
 Hurry-Up Parker's hostility was forgotten. He 
 had proved himself to himself and now felt con- 
 fident to look any man in the eye. He had made 
 the trip to the mountains. He would go to 
 
2o6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Susette and, with her father's consent, determine 
 the date of the wedding day. Parker would prob- 
 ably insist on a probationary term spent in the 
 services of the A. F. C. Very good — ^he would 
 reenter the employment of the A. F. C. and make 
 good. 
 
 "Asleep ?" broke in a voice. 
 
 Lander looked up and blinked at Phinny. The 
 A. F. C. representative remarked : 
 
 'TVe spoken to you three times. Say, I'm 
 regular dished on this trip. Mr. McKenzie will 
 feel like shipping me back to St. Louis for not 
 getting here ahead of Mr. Bridger. 
 
 "But what could I do with that crazy breed to 
 guide me ; and he smuggling along some rum and 
 getting drunk before we was clear of the Yel- 
 lowstone and being laid up sick? He swore the 
 Assiniboins put poison in his liquor before we 
 quit the fort. Blames it on to old Gauche." 
 
 "He'll be mad because you didn't git here in 
 time to make some of the trade?" asked Lander 
 sympathetically. 
 
 "Like it? I'll probably be put back in that 
 cussed store or sent down to Cabanne's post to 
 handle what's left of the Pawnee trade. I'll be 
 lucky if I'm not kicked out. Mr. McKenzie is 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL! 207 
 
 much worked up at the way Mr. B ridge r is get- 
 ting the beaver. The robes will help a little, only 
 it'll be mighty hard work getting them back to 
 Union." 
 
 Lander began to pity him. Also he disliked the 
 idea of Phinny's returning to St. Louis. The 
 man wanted to stay at Fort Union, and that was 
 the one spot on earth Lander wished him to locate 
 in permanently. Phinny continued : 
 
 "There is a chance for me to make good in a 
 small way. One of the free trappers told my 
 breed guide that he has a small cache of beaver 
 three days up the river. If I can trade for them 
 my trip won't seem so much of a failure. I'll 
 make Mr. McKenzie think I traded them right out 
 from under Mr. Bridger's nose. 
 
 "The trapper's mad at Bridger for refusing 
 him credit, so the R. M. F. can't get them any- 
 way. It's either the A. F. C. or that outfit of 
 Connecticut Yankees under Wyeth. I'm going 
 for them and I don't want to take any of my own 
 men as they might blab at the fort that I got them 
 easy instead of getting the best of Mr. Bridger 
 in open trade. My breed will guide me. 
 
 "One of your men. Porker, is willing to go 
 with me if Mr. Bridger is willing. If you'd go 
 
2o8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 along you'd be helping me out a lot — Lord knows 
 you ain't got any reason to feel friendly toward 
 me. 
 
 "That's all right," said tander, eager to help 
 him establish a secure standing at Fort Union, yet 
 scarcely relishing the trip. **Porker wouldn't 
 dare go without the boss' consent; neither would 
 I." 
 
 "That's just the reason why I come to you. 
 I want you to put it up to Mr. Bridger. If he'll 
 let youf two men go I'll return to Union with a 
 bit of credit as a trader, and when Mr. Bridger 
 wants to trade more robes he'll find me the man 
 to deal with." 
 
 "Would you go and return inside of six days ?" 
 mused Lander. 
 
 "Easy. Good trail, the breed says, and the 
 man's waiting to turn them over." 
 
 Lander placed the proposition before Bridger, 
 who smiled in deep amusement at Phinny's naive 
 confession — that he wished to appear as outwit- 
 ting the head of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
 pany in a matter of trade. It was characteristic 
 of his kindly heart that he should readily consent, 
 saying : 
 
 "If it'll help him any — yes. I owe him a good 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 209 
 
 turn for taking the robes. They'd been an' 
 
 repeat to pack to St. Louis. Call it a holiday and 
 go with him. 
 
 "Long Simons says there is no signs of hostiles 
 within fifty miles of us. Baker isn't so sure, but 
 his Snake friends have been reading their medi- 
 cine and filling him up. Too many friendly In- 
 JJuns and trappers here for the Blackfeet to be 
 sneaking round. 
 
 "It's Bill Tracy who's got the furs. There's 
 eight or ten packs, and the R. M. F. isn't passing 
 'em by ordinarily. He's sore because I wouldn't 
 let him have a keg of liquor on credit. I offered 
 an outfit but he wanted the rum. 
 
 "He offered the cache to the New England 
 outfit, but Wyeth was suspicious an' wouldn't 
 dicker unless the packs was fetched in here. Take 
 a mule an' go ahead." 
 
 "Can Papa Clair go with us ?" 
 
 "No, siree ! Think I come up here to work for 
 the A. F. C. ? You can go as you're not any help 
 just now. Papa Clair is always a help. An' be 
 bacic at the end of the sixth day or you'll find us 
 gone. 
 
 "We're 'bout to split up into small parties. The 
 A. F. C. will try to tag us round, and I may make 
 
210 • KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 a jump dear into tEe Blackfoot country. Then 
 let them follow an' lose their hair." 
 
 Lander said nothing about Porker. Bridger's 
 tone did not invite further requests. Very possi- 
 bly Phinny had agreed to pay Porker well and 
 the man would undertake the trip without per- 
 mission. But that was Porker's affair. Return- 
 ing to Phinny he reported the results of his mis- 
 sion and reminded him that he must be back in 
 six days. 
 
 "We can make it easy. IVe already started 
 old Deschamps ahead to make the packs ready 
 for the mules. He took two mules besides the 
 one he is riding. His trail will be easy to follow 
 if Porker can't go. 
 
 "Sorry you didn't ask about Porker, but Mr. 
 Bridger might have said, *No.' You don't care 
 if Porker goes without asking?" 
 
 "Nothing to me as I don't know anything 
 about it. If he goes I shall take it for granted he 
 got permission," said Lander with a smile. 
 
 Papa Clair and Long Simons were about to 
 depart in search of beaver country along the vari- 
 ous small tributaries of the Green. Lander 
 wished he were going with them. Jim Baker was 
 visiting the Snake Indians, now camped ten miles 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 211 
 
 below the rendezvous. Clair and Simons did not 
 suggest that Lander go with them, and he did not 
 feel called on to speak of his trip with Phinny. 
 
 The man Porker was busily cleaning his rifle 
 and sharpening his knife and gave Lander a 
 knowing glance. There was no doubt about 
 Porker making the trip to Tracy's cache. 
 
 The first night out was very warm. The men 
 had not bothered to bring any tent, and although 
 a canvas is but a frail protection Lander wished 
 he had something for shelter. Porker laughed at 
 him. Phinny smiled more politely. 
 
 "It's the wolves," Lander explained, feeling 
 sheepish because of his squeamishness. 
 
 "Wolves!" guffawed Porker. "A mountain 
 man don't keer a cuss for all th' wolves this side 
 o' Tophet." 
 
 "Old mountain men tell me the wolves are 
 quite harmless unless starving," Phinny said. 
 
 "I'm not entirely an idiot," assured Lander 
 with a laugh. "I'm not afraid of wolves that act 
 natural. But several times to-day when I was 
 riding behind, one big fellow almost passed under 
 my horse and took a snap at my heel. He was 
 too fat to be hungry, but he was keen to bite. 
 Now wolves don't act that way." 
 
212 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Porker's merriment vanished and he glanced 
 uneasily about their camp. 
 
 "Mad wolf — that's what he was/' he mum- 
 bled. "They do git pestiferous this time o' year. 
 Two seasons ago they bit a bull that belonged to 
 th' A. F. C. outfit. We was bringin' up th' bull 
 an' six cows. Bull went mad. I don't wanter see 
 any sight like that again !" 
 
 "I thought that was all stuff," said Phinny, 
 peering anxiously about. "Must be wolves that's 
 hungry." 
 
 "No, sir!" emphatically denied Porker. 
 "They'll go right by dead buf'ler. All they 
 wanter do is to bite something. I was with a' out- 
 fit on th' Sweetwater when a big gray feller 
 sneaked into our camp an' bit th' stock. We had 
 tents an' I hope to die if he didn't come into one 
 tent three times in one night. We had orders not 
 to shoot ; th' boss thinkin' we'd kill each other, or 
 th' mules. 
 
 "Twice th' fellers drove him out with heavin' 
 things at him, but th' last trip they was all asleep, 
 and he chewed George Holmes on th' ear 'n' face 
 somethin' cruel. Holmes begin to say he was 
 goin' mad. Got so bad he wouldn't cross water 
 till we'd covered him with blankets. Then one 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 213 
 
 day he had fits, an' that night threw away his 
 clothes an* run off, an' was never seen since/' 
 
 "Don't!" shivered Lander. "I'll sleep in a tree 
 if you keep on." 
 
 "Yes, that's enough,'* growled Phinny. 
 "Lucky if they don't git in and bite the mules." 
 
 "If they try that they'll be lucky not to have 
 their derned heads kicked off. We'll keep a fire 
 an' stand watch. Fire won't skeer 'em if they're 
 mad, but it'll give a light to shoot by." 
 
 It fell to Lander to stand the first watch and he 
 was glad as he was too nervous to sleep. He 
 patrolled back and forth for an hour, pausing 
 only to replenish the small fire, and then sat 
 down satisfied the night would pass without any 
 intrusions. 
 
 Something whitish-gray, moving noiselessly so 
 far as his ears were able to register, passed by 
 him and toward the mules. For a second he 
 believed it was imagination; then the mules set 
 up a fearful braying and kicking, and thinking 
 he glimpsed the furtive shape he discharged his 
 rifle. 
 
 Phinny and Porker came to their feet and 
 snatched up their weapons. 
 
 "What is it?" roared Porker. 
 
214 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Wolf!" yelled Lander, rushing toward the 
 mules and expecting to find the terrible visitor 
 dead. But he could not find even a drop of 
 blood. 
 
 His companions swore fretfully as he returned 
 to the fire, and insisted he had dreamed it. Lan- 
 der angrily asked if they believed the mules also 
 had dreamed it. But his companions had heard 
 only the rifle-shot and believed it was that which 
 frightened the mules. 
 
 "Jest tuck this inter yer pipe an' smoke it," 
 warned Porker. "No more shootin' in this camp. 
 Ye'll be pottin' either me or Phinny next. It's 
 all right to heave a' ax, but this sprinklin' lead 
 round every time ye have a bad dream " 
 
 "Oh, shut up! If you two say not to fire — 
 all right, I won't fire. But if you get nipped 
 don't blame me." 
 
 "We certainly haven't any right to find fault 
 with you," mollified Phinny. "Reckon we're all 
 rather nervous. Only thing I heard was the shot, 
 then the mules, and it scared me blue. But we'll 
 all agree to shoot off no gims in camp. It might 
 fetch some small band of Injuns down on us." 
 
 Irritated at the fault-finding, Lander sullenly 
 completed his watch and aroused Porker. The 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 215 
 
 latter asked if there Had been any signs of a wolf, 
 and Lander growled a negative. Porker lighted 
 his pipe and took his turn. When he called 
 Phinny it was growing light in the east. 
 
 "Reckon ye won't have much to do," yawned 
 Porker, returning to his blankets. 
 
 Phinny walked about until thoroughly awake; 
 then discovered the mules were acting uneasy 
 and went to them. As he came up they milled 
 about and lashed out with their heels. Something 
 darted by him and he leaped aside and heard, or 
 fancied he heard, the click of poisonous teeth. In 
 another moment Porker screamed and staggered 
 to his feet, firing his rifle blindly and sending 
 the ball near Phinny's head. 
 
 "You fool! Trying to kill me?" roared 
 Phinny. 
 
 "Oh, God!" cried Porker, whirling frantically 
 about. "Th' wolf bit me ! Now I'll go mad !" 
 
 "Nonsense!" yelped Phinny, his voice quaver- 
 ing with fear. 
 
 Lander came out of his blankets and taking in 
 the situation demanded, "Let me look at you." 
 
 He turned Porker about and felt the massive 
 form trembling violently. There was no doubt 
 but that something had bitten him, for his chin 
 
2i6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 was covered with blood. Lander stirred up the 
 fire, threw on some dry stalks and washed the 
 blood away and found the marks of teeth. 
 Thrusting a ramrod into the fire, he heated it 
 and cauterized the wounds, and encouraged him. 
 
 *Tt's nothing. Skin barely broken. You'll be 
 all right. Probably some kind of a rat." 
 
 Phinny knew better, but held his tongue. As 
 the day broke he secretly studied the mountain 
 man as if expecting to behold immediate symp- 
 toms of hydrophobia. Under Lander's cheerful 
 encouragement Porker recovered his composure 
 and affected to have no fears. Yet when he 
 filled his pipe his big hands trembled, and more 
 than once he sought to study his lacerated face 
 in pools of water. 
 
 Their course lay up the Green, and they found 
 the traveling easy with a broad trail left by Des- 
 champs and his mules. The finding of several 
 broken arrow-shafts told them it was a thorough- 
 fare for the Indians. Porker examined the shafts 
 and said they had weathered for at least one 
 season. 
 
 Throughout the day Porker was normal in his 
 bearing, but toward sundown he became silent, 
 which was not characteristic of him. Once a 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 217 
 
 gray form flashed across the trail ahead and he 
 shook in a paroxysm of fear. However, he man- 
 aged to keep his nerves well under control. He 
 bolted his supper hurriedly and although it was 
 his turn to stand the first watch he rolled up in 
 his blankets. 
 
 *'He's powerful scared," whispered Lander. 
 "You wake me for the second watch and we'll let 
 him sleep through. A full sleep will fix him all 
 right." 
 
 This was done and Lander found nothing to 
 disturb his dreams of Susette until near morning. 
 He was half-way through the extra watch and 
 thinking of the girl, marking time until it should 
 grow light enough for him to start the breakfast, 
 when a dirty gray form flashed from cover and 
 streaked toward the camp. Instinctively his rifle 
 flew up and discharged, and the gray patch took 
 to the air and came down within a few feet of 
 Porker. Both Porker and Phinny sprang erect at 
 the shot. 
 
 "I got him this time!" cried Lander pointing. 
 
 It was a big gray wolf, and its jaws, agape, 
 were hideous to contemplate. This time neither 
 of his companions found any fault with his 
 shooting. 
 
2i8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Same feller that nipped me," shuddered 
 Porker. Then hopefully: "Some say ye ain't in 
 any danger if ye kill th' cuss.'* 
 
 "That's right," heartily agreed Lander. "Be- 
 sides, I burned all the poison out." 
 
 "I don't count much on th' burnin'. Took too 
 long for th' iron to heat. What ye oughter done 
 was rub in gunpowder an' touch it off. Wal, I'm 
 derned glad he's dead, an' let's be gittin' away 
 from here." 
 
 It was with difficulty that they induced him to 
 wait until they had eaten. He refused to touch 
 any food. 
 
 "Eat something," insisted Phinny. 
 
 "Curse ye, I ain't hungry!" snarled Porker, 
 striding to the mules and beginning to saddle up. 
 
 Phinny looked at Lander inquiringly. 
 
 "I don't know any more than you do," said 
 Lander. "Bridger and Baker say mad wolves 
 will pass by food and seem keen only to bite 
 somicthing. I don't even know that that dead 
 brute was mad ; or if he was if he's the same one 
 that bit Porker. But if Porker gets to thinking 
 things hard enough he'll go mad." 
 
 They mounted, and Porker, contrary to his 
 usual custom, rode some distance ahead of his 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 219 
 
 companions. According to Lander's reckoning 
 they were almost up to the cache. 
 
 Phinny watched Porker steadily. It was easy 
 to read Phinny's mind by watching his eyes. He 
 was afraid of the big man ahead. Porker, usu- 
 ally so gregarious, now seemed loath to come near 
 them, and when Lander did manage to ride 
 abreast of him and manage to catch his gaze he 
 saw that which made him willing to drop back 
 with Phinny. 
 
 Kear sundown a man came galloping a mule 
 down the river bank. Lander covered him with 
 his rifle, but Phinny called out : 
 
 "Don't shoot! It's old Deschamps!" 
 
 The breed came on, his wily eyes instantly de- 
 tecting constraint in the three men. He glanced 
 askance at Porker, who kept to one side and made 
 no move to join his mates. In an undertone and 
 speaking rapidly Phinny explained what had 
 happened. 
 
 "Bad," grunted Deschamps. "Better kill 'um." 
 And he fingered his gun. 
 
 "No, no!" hissed Phinny. "He'll be all right 
 if he gets over his scare." 
 
 Deschamps, who understood English much bet- 
 ter than he could speak it, nodded his head slowly. 
 
220 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Lander, who was anxious to have done with the 
 disagreeable trip and its possible tragedy, 
 asked : 
 
 "How far to the cache ?" 
 
 Deschamps eyed him stolidly as if not under- 
 standing. Phinny repeated the query sternly. 
 With a sullen duck of his head the breed held up 
 one finger. 
 
 "One day !" cried Lander in disgust. "It won't 
 do. We should be turning back to-morrow." 
 
 "One sleep/' corrected Deschamps. 
 
 "Means we can camp here to-night, raise the 
 cache to-morrow and start back," said Phinny. 
 "It must be near as he has left the pack mules 
 there." 
 
 "Sleep, then go. Mules there," grunted 
 Deschamps. 
 
 They called to Porker and told him their plans. 
 He made no reply but hobbled the mules. He 
 made no offer to help with the evening meal, but 
 after some meat had broiled he seized a portion 
 and withdrew and attacked it ravenously for a 
 few minutes ; then seemed to lose his appetite. 
 
 Suddenly he began to laugh, not his usual bois- 
 terous guffaw, but a strident, interminable cack- 
 ling with a peculiar metallic quality in his voice. 
 
ALONG THE RIVER TRAIL 221 
 
 Lander was frozen with horror, and Phinny 
 stealthily reached for his rifle. Old Deschamps 
 effaced himself in a clump of bushes. 
 
 "What's the matter, man?" sharply demanded 
 Lander. "Stop it and light your pipe." 
 
 "Light my pipe, ye pasty-faced pet o' Jim 
 Bridger's," croaked Porker, twisting his thick 
 lips in a most grotesque manner as if each word 
 had to be dislodged by force. "By this time to- 
 morrer I'll be lightin' my pipe in the other world 
 an' yer ha'r'll be hangin' in a Blackfoot lodge." 
 
 "Shut up that fool talk!" shrilly commanded 
 Phinny, drawing the gun to his side. 
 
 Porker was seized with a convulsion of laugh- 
 ter. His mirth was titanic and of a horrible 
 quality. Pointing a quivering finger at the dazed 
 Lander he shrieked: 
 
 "Ye poor fool ! Tried to make it hot for me in 
 Bridger's outfit, eh? Wal, here ye be only a few 
 feet behind ol' Porker when he takes th' long 
 trail. 
 
 "Goin' bacic to St. Louis, be ye ? Yer hide will 
 be tanned by Blackfoot smoke. They'll find me 
 mad as th' mad wolf what bit me. They'll find 
 ye " 
 
222 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Phinny fired and Porker went down on his 
 face. 
 
 "Why did you do that?" gasped Lander, break- 
 ing into a clammy sweat. 
 
 "He's gone mad!" panted Phinny, working 
 with desperate haste to reload. "It was his life 
 or ours." 
 
 "He said they'd find me — wish he'd finished," 
 muttered Lander. 
 
 "Crazy talk. Hand me that ramrod," puffed 
 Phinny, his hands shaking. 
 
 Lander stooped and reached for the ramrod. 
 The bushes stirred and he started to lift his head. 
 Then a crash and nothingness. 
 
Chapter IX 
 
 IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 
 
 ^T^THEN Lander came to his senses he was 
 ^ ~ hanging across a pony, unable to move a 
 limb, and the rapid motion of the animal caused 
 him exquisite torment. His head felt as if it 
 were about to burst and he tried to twist it up to 
 relieve the blood-pressure. 
 
 There was the sound of many horses around 
 him and it was night. There was a great roaring 
 in his ears that was not made by nature or his 
 unseen companions. 
 
 Finally he caught the guttural voices of 
 Indians and vaguely comprehended his plight. 
 Phinny had shot Porker; then the Indians came 
 from ambush and knocked them in the head. 
 Whether Phinny was a captive or dead he had 
 no idea. 
 
 The Crows would rob white men but were 
 loath to kill them. The fact he had been struck 
 223 
 
224 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 down by some blunt instrument and not perma- 
 nently harmed suggested Crows as his captors. 
 But he could not believe they were from Black 
 Arrow's band. The chief expected him to winter 
 with the tribe and would gain nothing by mak- 
 ing him a prisoner. 
 
 Also there were Nez Perces, Flatheads and 
 Snakes in and about the rendezvous; but these 
 tribes were friendly with the whites and seldom 
 bothered them even when engaged in tribal wars. 
 This left the Blackfeet, who were known to be 
 gathered near the Three Tetons in great num- 
 bers, and who doubtless were sending small bands 
 down the Sweetwater and Green to pick off 
 stray victims. 
 
 He decided he must be in the power of the Sik- 
 sika, or Blackfeet. Even a store-man in St. 
 Louis must know the history of this tribe's unre- 
 lenting hatred for Americans. The bulk of Kit 
 Carson's Indian fights were with these people. 
 The Sioux tribes and their treacherous tenants, 
 the Aricaras, were bad enough, but with these 
 tribes there were lulls — peaceful intervals when 
 boats ascended the river without being attacked. 
 
 Not so with the Blackfeet. To meet an Amer- 
 ican band of trappers was the signal for battle. 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 225 
 
 They carried their trade to the H. B. posts in 
 Canada, or turned it over to outposts below 
 the national boundary line. With the Americans 
 they would have nothing but war. 
 
 Bridger and his associates usually spoke of 
 their country as the **butcher-shop/' and what 
 beaver was taken above the Milk was usually 
 accompanied by running fights — the white men 
 retreating. 
 
 If the Blackfeet denied themselves trade priv- 
 ileges with the American traders they were never 
 tempted, as w^ere the Assiniboins, to exchange all 
 their robes for diluted alcohol in weather when 
 Indians ponies froze to death standing tip. If 
 they lost warriors by white men's bullets, they 
 lost less than many other tribes did through dis- 
 ease. Lander knew if he was a captive of this 
 terrible people he stood no chance of being 
 adopted or ransomed, but must die beneath all 
 the torture his captors' hideous ingenuity could 
 provide. 
 
 He groaned dismally, and instantly a hand 
 rested on his neck. Soon the ponies came to a 
 halt and he was untied from his mount and 
 dumped on the ground like a pack of skins. With 
 the breath knocked from his body and in immi- 
 
22(> KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 nent danger of being trampled on in the darkness, 
 still he felt immeasurably better as the blood 
 cleared from his head. 
 
 No attention was given him except as some 
 man ran his fingers over his person to make sure 
 the thongs were secure. Next the ponies were 
 led to one side and the warriors threw themselves 
 on the ground, and the camp became quiet. Lan- 
 der worked at his bonds only to find the slightest 
 movement brought a hand fumbling at the knots. 
 
 As he persisted the edge of a knife was placed 
 against his throat. After this threat he remained 
 very quiet. Despite his fears and tortured posi- 
 tion he dozed off at last, and when much commo- 
 tion aroused him it was early morning and his 
 captors were preparing to resume their journey. 
 
 The expedition was in command of the Black- 
 feet military organization, the Ikunuhkahtsi' — All 
 Comrades — and the strictest obedience was given 
 the orders of the leader. This man was short and 
 thick-set, and wore several necklaces of grizzly- 
 bear teeth. 
 
 No attention was paid the prisoner until after 
 the men had eaten. Then he was jerked to his 
 feet and thrown astride a horse. Neither food 
 nor water w^as offered him. 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 227 
 
 Once he had gazed about, his stomach revolted 
 at the thought of food. Around the necks of 
 several horses, and including his own mount, were 
 tied the freshly severed hands and feet of Indians. 
 The band had been in a fight with some of the 
 plains tribes and were bringing home the 
 trophies. The leader carried a tall lance, and tied 
 to the top of this were several scalps. They rode 
 due north toward the Gros Ventres Range, mak- 
 ing for the heart of the mountains. Suffering 
 horribly from thirst but not daring to ask for 
 water, Lander clenched his teeth and stared 
 straight ahead, trying to hold his head high that 
 his gaze might escape the gruesome decorations 
 around his pony's neck. 
 
 Although he did not know it this bearing fav- 
 orably impressed his captors, who interpreted it 
 as the index of a high and haughty spirit. Had 
 they realized it was due to a weak heart and faint 
 stomach they probably would have slain him on 
 the spot. 
 
 At midday they halted at a waterhole and a 
 warrior held up a leather bucket filled to the 
 brim, and motioned for Lander to drink. As he 
 eagerly accepted the invitation the bucket was 
 placed upside down on his head. He fell from 
 
228 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 his horse and nearly choked to death. The joke 
 was hailed with much laughter. 
 
 Desperate and only anxious to have it quickly 
 over with^ Lander forgot to be afraid, and bow- 
 ing his head he butted his tormentor in the face, 
 smashing his nose and lips and hurling him into 
 the hole. The savage scrambled out and came 
 at him with drawn knife. The leader yelled an 
 order and several braves seized the infuriated 
 man and held him back. 
 
 Then another warrior filled the bucket and 
 allowed Lander to drink. In all his life he had 
 never known such exquisite pleasure as when the 
 ice-cold water filled his parched and feverish 
 throat. Some jerked meat was next offered him, 
 but he was unable to eat with his arms strapped 
 to his sides. 
 
 The leader again spoke, and his cramped limbs 
 were released. He had thought it impossible to 
 eat fresh bull-meat in Bridger's camp; now he 
 made short work of long strings of tough, bark- 
 like substance. As he bolted the leathery ration 
 he discovered he could look on the ghastly tro- 
 phies without feeling squeamish. 
 
 He rode the whole afternoon without any great 
 discomfort. Now that he had eaten and drunk 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 229 
 
 he began to scheme to escape. They had deprived 
 him of his rifle and belt, the latter containing- a 
 short skinning-knife. But they had not thought 
 to remove his boots, and Papa Clair's long gift 
 blade still reposed in its scabbard. 
 
 The day's journey terminated once the band 
 had passed through a narrow canon and had 
 entered a circular pocket several miles in diame- 
 ter. Here seemed to be a permanent camp, pos- 
 sibly the advance of the main body of the Three 
 Tetons, seeking small bands of trappers before 
 returning to the home country at the sources of 
 the Missouri. That they had no fears of surprise 
 attacks was shown by their relaxation once they 
 came up to the skin tents, where the women 
 rushed out to greet them. 
 
 The scalps were given to the squaws to dance 
 and trample upon. The trophies were removed 
 from the horses and elevated upon lances and 
 poles and became centers of much derisive atten- 
 tion. The squaws attempted to get at Lander but 
 were bundled aside by the men. He was uncere- 
 moniously thrown to the ground and pegged out 
 in spread-eagle fashion. 
 
 After the kettles of meat had cooked^ two war- 
 riors released his arms and allowed him to sit 
 
230 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 up to eat. He found the meat tender and sav- 
 ory despite the lack of salt. Suddenly become a 
 fatalist, he decided he would die on a full stomach, 
 and quickly devoured a large quantity. He was 
 allowed to drink, then was thrown and pegged 
 out. 
 
 While sitting up he had gained a glimpse of 
 the camp and saw it was a large one. The leather 
 tents were uniform in size and pattern. Directly 
 behind him, and so near he could almost touch it 
 with his outstretched hand^ was an unusually 
 large lodge, oblong in shape. 
 
 Night came abruptly to the pocket. Numerous 
 small fires were lighted. Lander was watching 
 the silhouettes pass between him and the fires 
 when he was startled to hear a voice near his 
 head sigh, "Alas, m'sieur 
 
 "Papa Clair!" he softly ejaculated. 
 
 "Baptiste Gardepied — talk French?" 
 
 Lander eagerly asked in French, "'What will 
 they do with me, M'sieu Gardepied?" 
 
 "To-morrow. It will be very sad and cniel. 
 May the Old Man give you strength." 
 
 "But you are not an Indian. What do you do 
 here? Where are you?" 
 
 "I am in the big medicine-lodge. My mother 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 231 
 
 was an Arapaho, my father a French trader. The 
 Arapahoes are friends to the Blackfeet. I mar- 
 ried a Blackfoot woman. I have worked at Fort 
 Union, but came here when Deschamps and his 
 rascal sons said they would kill me. 
 
 "The Blackfeet say it was Deschamps who 
 brought them down on you. He met one of their 
 scouts and said he would make a smoke signal 
 to show your camp." 
 
 "Deschamps ? He betrayed me to the Indians ? 
 He was guiding Malcom Phinny " 
 
 "Ah, M'sieii Phinny ! He is one bad one. He 
 is now at Fort Union, but he brought much news 
 of Bridger. The A. F. C. do not like M'sieu 
 Bridger's way of getting the beaver. If I were 
 M'sieu Bridger I would never walk ahead of a 
 Deschamps or a Rem." 
 
 "But if Deschamps betrayed me, then Phinny 
 betrayed me," gasped Lander. 
 
 "But why not ? Does M'sieu Phinny love you ? 
 When he came to Fort Union he was quick to get 
 thick with Deschamps. It Is said he will marry 
 one of the old man's wildcat daughters when he 
 returns to the fort." 
 
 "You must get me out of this," gritted Lander. 
 
 "It is my life if they know I cut your cords. It 
 
232 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 may be death if they knew I was in the medicine- 
 tent. Not even the warriors dare come in here 
 where they keep the sacred bundles. And if I 
 cut you free you will be taken again." 
 
 "I have a knife in my boot. I know how to 
 use it. I can die fighting and not at the hands 
 of a squaw/' 
 
 ''PsstI Be quiet — some one comes." 
 
 Lander saw the figure approaching from one 
 of the fires. The man dropped at his side and 
 examined his bonds and made sure the pegs were 
 holding. Then he rose and with a guttural excla- 
 mation struck the prisoner in the face. He hesi- 
 tated after the blow, muttered fiercely, then 
 turned back to the fire. 
 
 "Curse him!" panted Ilander through his 
 bloody lips. 
 
 "He says you broke his nose/' whispered Gar- 
 depied. "And — well, we shall see what we shall 
 see. It will be better to die fighting, of course. 
 Oh, much better!" 
 
 "What else did he say?" demanded Uander. 
 
 "He spoke of the green rawhide torture. As 
 it dries it shrinks and holds like iron. They fasten 
 the stone heads on their war-clubs with it. It is 
 all too cruel to talk about. I am part Arapaho 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 233 
 
 — I marry a Blackfoot woman. But I remember 
 I am half white. 
 
 "Yes, it is much better for you to die fighting, 
 m'sieu. The white blood in me says I must give 
 you that chance." 
 
 "Then in God's mercy cut these cords/' panted . 
 Lander, beginning a useless struggle. 
 
 "What would you have? Death now? Wait 
 a bit. I must leave the medicine-tent and go to 
 the fire and show myself and then go to my 
 lodge. They will think I have turned in for the 
 night. 
 
 "Then I will come back and reach from under 
 the flap of the tent and cut your arms free. I 
 can not reach your legs, but you say you have a 
 knife. Use it, and make for the hole through 
 the hills. I fear you will not get far, but know- 
 ing what I know, you will have much to thank 
 Baptiste Gardepied for when you go down 
 fighting." 
 
 "Do not fail me," mumbled Lander. 
 
 The breed no longer talked and Lander knew 
 the medicine-lodge was empty. He closed his 
 eyes and fell to thinking of Susette. Then came 
 thoughts of Papa Clair, his friend; of Jim 
 Bridger, generous and kind. 
 
234 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 It was all clear to him now. Phinny had 
 played him false, and had planned to do so from 
 the start. Porker was in the scheme, and Phinny 
 had killed him to prevent his tattling the truth. 
 
 Deschamps had joined the three white men 
 and it was his hand that had reached from the 
 bushes and struck Lander senseless. They had 
 left him tied in the trail for the Blackfeet to find 
 and kill by inches. 
 
 The groups about the fires sang and danced, or 
 listened to some warrior reciting his coups. None 
 of the squaws ventured near the prisoner ; he was 
 being saved for the morrow's sport. At regtilar 
 intervals a brave would examine his bonds. 
 
 He waited more than an hour for Gardepied to 
 return; then exhaustion overcame him and he 
 dozed. He was always conscious of the thongs 
 tugging at his arms and legs, and yet he slept 
 and woke up and slept again. After one troubled 
 nap he opened his eyes and realized he had 
 slumbered for some time. 
 
 Gray mists were rising from the pocket, and 
 the tops of the western peaks were reflecting the 
 first lights of dawn. With terrible dismay he 
 realized the night had passed and that Gardepied 
 had not given him his chance to die fighting. 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 235 
 
 He rolled his head in hope of glimpsing the 
 form of the breed stealthily making a belated 
 approach. With the exception of a dozen guards, 
 who sat muffled in their blankets, the camp still 
 slept. 
 
 As Lander rolled his head from side to side 
 he was obsessed by the absurd fancy that a bush 
 moved a few feet. He knew this was his imagina- 
 tion, yet he marked the position of the bush well 
 before glancing to the opposite side. 
 
 Once more he saw a bush glide ahead. The 
 miracle had happened on his right and left. He 
 darted his gaze back to the first bush, and most 
 surely it was advancing, or else he was out of his 
 head. Not only that but bushes throughout the 
 level floor of the pocket were shifting their 
 positions. 
 
 One of the guards let his blanket fall to his 
 loins and stared earnestly over the eastern side of 
 the pocket. It was as if he had sensed danger. 
 As the chill of early morning struck home he 
 gathered the blanket about him and by degrees 
 his head sank on his chest again. 
 
 Lander thrilled in anticipation of something 
 about to happen. The floor of the pocket was 
 dotted with isolated clumps of bushes and those 
 
2z(> KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 growing" singly. On both the west and east the 
 miracle was being repeated and bushes advanced 
 closer about the camp circle. 
 
 It came as soft as the murmuring of the morn- 
 ing breeze. 
 
 Lander shook his head to show he was awake. 
 
 "Do not move when I cut the thong," came 
 the warning. 
 
 Then the horrible drag on his right arm 
 ceased, and he no longer felt as if it were being 
 pulled from the socket. And, oh, the luxury of 
 feeling it relax — of feeling the blood prickling 
 through the veins to revive the benumbed hand ! 
 It required all his will power to refrain from flex- 
 ing the muscles and hugging the outraged limb 
 to his side. 
 
 But the guard was out of his blanket again and 
 staring curiously over the plain. It seemed ages 
 before he slipped back into his blanket. Then the 
 heavenly relaxation of his left arm marked the 
 completion of Gardepied's charity, or response to 
 the call of his white blood. 
 
 Working his fingers until he had ousted the 
 prickly sensation, Lander darted his right hand 
 to his boot and pulled his knife. Rising and bend- 
 
The bushes move!" gasped the breed. 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 237 
 
 ing half double, he slashed twice and la}r back, 
 his legs free. 
 
 "Napi, the Old Man, help tis! The bushes 
 move!" gasped the voice of the breed. 
 
 A guard rose up, threw aside his blanket and 
 stared sharply over the plain. Something caught 
 his attention and he bent forward to scrutinize it 
 more closely. 
 
 He straightened and threw back his head, but 
 the streak through the air, beginning at the near- 
 est bush and ending in his throat, permitted only 
 a gasping, gurgling cry to escape his lips. How- 
 ever, another guard saw him fall with the arrow 
 through his neck and yelled an alarm. 
 
 Instantly the bushes rose in the air, revealing 
 human forms beneath them — ^warriors with 
 bushes tied to their heads. A cloud of arrows 
 hissed into camp and stung the sleepers, biting 
 several to death; and the hoarse war-cry of the 
 Crows completed the camp's dismay. On the 
 west side of the pocket commenced the same mode 
 of attack^ while down at the mouth of the narrow 
 canon sounded the loud battle yell of white men. 
 
 With a backward squirm Lander gained the 
 side of the medicine-lodge and raising a flap 
 rolled inside. He heard a noise on the opposite 
 
238 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 side of the lodge, but could see nothing as the 
 interior of the place was piled high with packs. 
 Passing round the barrier he saw a flap fall in 
 place, and peering out beheld the breed running 
 north and away from the fighting. 
 
 Returning to the south side of tTie lodge, Lan- 
 der cut a slit in the wall and beheld the camp in 
 an uproar. The surprise attack had for a few 
 minutes thrown the Blackfeet into a panic. Now 
 they were recovering their morale. Some rushed 
 to gather in the horses, but were beaten back by 
 many arrows. On both sides the Crows began to 
 increase the pressure. 
 
 The Blackfeet in two long lines faced in two 
 directions. Their chief rode up and down 
 between the lines, exhorting his men to- die like 
 warriors. The squaws, very demons, rushed 
 back and forth, bringing fresh quivers, or darting 
 out and dragging their wounded tribesmen inside 
 the lines. 
 
 The Crows were now on the ground, still 
 masked by the bushes. The Blackfeet ceased to 
 fall back. One line suddenly rushed ahead, and 
 Lander's heart jumped violently as he beheld the 
 front of the bushes drawing back. But before 
 the Blackfeet could score any advantage a flying 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 239 
 
 mass of trappers struck the tips of the double 
 Hues, their rifles and pistols reechoing viciously. 
 
 Some of the squaws managed to bring up a 
 few horses at the risk of their lives, and warriors 
 mounted these and rode down to slow up the 
 advance of the whites. One old hag with her 
 gray hair streaming in the morning breeze remem- 
 bered the prisoner, and with eldritch shrieks 
 darted around the medicine-lodge with a knife in 
 her^ skinny hand and dropped on her knees and 
 raised the blade. She stared at the empty ground 
 stupidly, then cried out with such malignant 
 intensity as to make Lander's blood curdle. 
 
 Other women rushed up. Lander passed to 
 the other side of the tent, thinking to escape, but 
 found the Blackfeet in retreating had cut him off. 
 The big lodge occupied the middle of the battle- 
 ground and was now entirely surrounded. Turn- 
 ing to the packs and working with desperate 
 vigor, Lander rearranged them in a high breast- 
 work around him. As he finished the barricade 
 the lodge coverings began to vanish as mounted 
 horsemen paused long enough to salvage the 
 sacred hides. 
 
 An Indian with a swollen nose glimpsed Lan- 
 der's head disappearing behind the packs, and 
 
240 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 with a howl of fury dimbed up the barrier, a war- 
 ax in his hand. For a few seconds the brave en- 
 dured the white man's masterly knife-play, chop- 
 ping ineffectively, then went down at the foot of 
 the barricade and dreamed no more of battle. 
 
 Others of the Blackfeet had witnessed the brief 
 duel, but there was none who had time to attack 
 the prisoner. Now that his hiding-place was dis- 
 covered Lander recklessly showed himself and 
 waved his arms and yelled: 
 
 "Papa Clair! Jim Bridger! Jim Baker!" 
 
 "God is good !'* cried Papa Clair, swerving his 
 horse between two bucks and making for the stack 
 of packs. He rode with the reins in his teeth, 
 almost with his knees in the saddle, a knife in each 
 hand. And as he pressed forward he leaned far 
 to right and left, his terrible knives etching a red 
 trail. Emboldened by the coming of the whites, 
 the Crows threw aside their head-coverings of 
 bushes and advanced more boldly. 
 
 The Blackfeet were now awake to their danger 
 and fought a vicious rear-guard action. Their 
 chief was among the last to fall back. He kept 
 taunting his enemies^ and as his words were heard 
 the Crows slightly lessened the impetuosity of 
 their advance. 
 
IN THE MEDICINE LODGE 241 
 
 Papa Clair leaped from his horse, joined Lan- 
 der behind the packs and interpreted : "The chief 
 is telling us that there are eight hundred Black- 
 feet a short distance north of here, that they will 
 soon come and give tis all the fight we want." 
 
 "This crowd is licked!" joyously; cried Lan- 
 der, hardly able to realize the sudden change in 
 his fortunes. 
 
 "They're falling back in good order," corrected 
 Papa Clair. "They even took the hide coverings 
 of this, their medicine-lodge. By this time they've 
 seen we have only, thirty white men and that our 
 Crows are losing stomach. We can't drive them 
 far. Ah, hear the Crows ! They've found the feet 
 and hands of their people. The Blackfeet sur- 
 prised a small party of Black Arrow's scouts and 
 cut off their limbs. The Crows were on the trail 
 when we overtook them. 
 
 • ^'M'sieu Phinny and Deschamps brought us 
 word of being attacked ; of you and Porker being 
 killed. M'sieii Baker had just come from the 
 Snake camp. We came with what force we had." 
 
 "Where's Phinny and Deschamps?" asked 
 Lander. 
 
 "Eh ? Who knows ? I gave them no thought 
 once we got word you were killed." 
 
Chapter X 
 
 AT FORT UNION 
 
 BRIDGER galloped up and silently wrung 
 Lander by the hand. Jim Baker, intoxi- 
 cated with joy, waved a big knife and yelled for 
 Lander to catch a horse and join in the pursuit. 
 But Bridger began shouting : 
 
 "We must turn back. There is a large party 
 of Blackfeet near here. The old chief did not 
 lie. We've got our man. Round up their horses. 
 Land of hfe! What's these packs?" 
 
 For the first time he noticed the nature of 
 Lander's barricade. Lander explained : 
 
 "I think they're the forty packs the Blackfeet 
 took from Ferguson, the H. B. man. If he is 
 here he can tell them." 
 
 "I'm glad to say he isn't here," said Bridger. 
 
 He quickly examined a pack and announced: 
 
 "The H. B. pelts sure enough. Ferguson's 
 mark is on 'em. Rustle for horses, boys; we'll 
 242 
 
AT FORT UNION 243 
 
 use the mules for packing these to camp. Papa 
 Clair, you and Lander see to loading them. I 
 must crowd the fighting a little more. Git after 
 'em, Jim Baker. Give 'em their needin's, men. 
 Take the fight out of them. We must have time 
 to load forty packs of prime beaver." 
 
 "Ain't that younker's medicine all , 
 
 Jim?" bawled Baker as he dashed away to force 
 the fighting. 
 
 Under Papa Clair's direction Lander and a 
 score of Crows rounded up what horses were not 
 yet captured. The Crows had left their own ani- 
 mals outside the pocket, and now once more in 
 the saddle they attacked the retreating enemy 
 more confidently, their big bows twanging out 
 the death sentence. And as they formed in a long 
 line across the pocket the trappers fell back and 
 exchanged their mules for ponies. 
 
 As fast as the mules were brought to him Papa 
 Clair superintended the loading of them — two 
 hundred pounds to each animal — and worked as 
 serenely as he would have in the big camp. In 
 short time the cavalcade began retiring toward 
 the cafion ; the trappers coming next with a screen 
 of Crows to discourage counter-attacks. 
 
 The Blackfeet had lost virtually all their stock 
 
244 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 and were poorly situated for taking* the offensive. 
 Bridger called out to Black Arrow that he and his 
 braves should have the bulk of the horses, but 
 the chief seemed more interested in securing the 
 poles of the medicine-lodge. The poles were 
 lashed to ponies in form of a travois and on them 
 was piled a miscellany of camp equipment. Jim 
 Baker viewed the poles with considerable rever- 
 ence and confided to Lander they were better 
 medicine than all the horses and pelts. 
 
 The escape from the pocket was made without 
 any confusion, but once the mules were through 
 the narrow opening the Blackfeet made a vigor- 
 ous charge, knowing the Crows must pass through 
 the exit in a mass. Bridger wheeled about and 
 led his mounted riflemen in a wild charge, and 
 scattered and drove the enemy to the end of the 
 pocket. This time the Blackfeet decided they had 
 had enough of fighting and contented themselves 
 with climbing the surrounding heights and mak- 
 ing many smoke signals. 
 
 Since taking refuge in the medi'cine-lodge Lan- 
 der had seen nothing of Gardepied. None of the 
 trappers had seen him during the fight. Once 
 back on the Green the horses were given to the 
 Crows after Bridger had taken one for each of 
 
[A.T FORT UNION 245 
 
 his men. As there were some three hundred ani- 
 mals, all in prime condition, the Crows' sorrow 
 over the fate of their tribesmen was somewhat 
 assuaged. 
 
 "You shall receive something worth while from 
 the sale of the beaver," Bridger informed Lander. 
 
 "Good lord! I'm satisfied with receiving my; 
 life back,'* shuddered Lander. "I shall never! 
 forget the women. They were terrible." 
 
 "Leave it to me to fix the terms. An' speak- 
 ing of women^ when a man marries he likes to 
 have something besides high hopes. Wq must 
 show our heels a bit faster, boys." 
 
 "You think they'll be following us?" asked 
 Lander anxiously, thinking of the chief's threat 
 to bring eight hundred men. 
 
 "They'll follow when they can. What worries 
 me is two white men — not the Black foot nation. 
 I don't like the notion of having left Phinny and 
 Ferguson in camp together." 
 
 As they rode down the river Lander related his 
 experience to Bridger and insisted Phinny and 
 Porker had planned his death. 
 
 "Don't doubt it," coolly agreed Bridger. "But 
 Porker's dead an' we can't prove anything on 
 Phinny. Treat him just as if you didn't suspect 
 
245 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 nothing. Time enough to pay him up after we git 
 these packs to St Louis." 
 
 When the band arrived at the rendezvous they 
 found the Snakes and Nez Perces had flocked in 
 to fight their anci'ent enemy if necessaiy. Phinny 
 and Ferguson had departed. They had traded 
 with Nez Perces for some crippled ponies and 
 some mules and had packed the buffalo-robes on 
 these. 
 
 They had started for Fort Union, having hired 
 a score of the Nez Perces to act as body-guard 
 until in the heart of the Crow country. With the 
 Nez Perces supplementing the Indians and breeds 
 Phinny had brought with him, he would stand in 
 no danger of an attack unless he encounted an 
 overwhelming force. 
 
 The fact that Ferguson had gone wi'th Phinny 
 was very disquieting to Bridger. He immediately 
 called Baker, Papa Clair, Long Simons and Lan- 
 der to his tent and tersely explained the situation. 
 In conclusion he said: 
 
 "Ferguson has gone back on his bargain to 
 winter in the Crow country for the Rocky Moun- 
 tain Fur Company. Phinny has offered him a 
 good position with the A. F. C. 
 
 "Ferguson will be sure to tell McKenzie how 
 
[AT FORT UNION 247 
 
 he lost his furs to the Blackfeet and o£ his deal 
 with me. McKenzie has an old man, Jake Ber- 
 ger, for a hunter. Berger used to work for the 
 H. B. at their North Saskatchewan post — Fort 
 of the Prairie. He got well acquainted with the 
 Blackfeet, who carried their trade there. He is 
 the one white man on the Missouri that can go 
 to the butcher-shop and stand a chance of bring- 
 ing his hair home. 
 
 "McKenzie will be sure to send him up the 
 Missouri to dicker for the forty packs. As soon 
 as Berger strikes any Blackfeet he'll learn about 
 this fight and the loss of the packs. 
 
 "Now this is what we must do : I must reach 
 Fort Union and buy a keelboat and have it ready 
 for a flying start from the mouth of the Yaller- 
 stone before McKenzie can hear we captured the 
 packs. So I will go ahead with Eander. As we 
 shall go down the Big Horn we'll have the Crows 
 for company most of the trip. 
 
 "Papa Clair with a dozen men will bring the 
 pack mules through the mountains to the Big 
 Horn, where he will make bull-boats and fetch 
 the packs down to the Yallerstone by water. He 
 must arrive at night so's he can hide up the boats 
 if I ain't all ready with the keelboat. When he 
 
248 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 takes to the water Long Simons will bring" the 
 mules hack here. 
 
 *'Baker will stay here and split the men into 
 small bands and send them to their beaver 
 grounds. Once I git the packs into a keelboat 
 I'm off for Fort Pierre, where I'll turn 'em over 
 to Etienne Prevost to take down to St. Louis. 
 
 "Lander will go with Prevost, an' I shall come 
 back here. I've made a square deal for the packs 
 an' I'm going to take the profit. Now, Lander, 
 pick a good horse while I have a talk with Black 
 Arrow." 
 
 Half an hour later Bridger and Lander, 
 escorted by a band of Crows, started for the Mis- 
 souri. Bridger allowed himself twelve days for 
 making the Big Horn. Traversing South Path 
 they struck the Sweetwater but followed it only 
 for a short distance before striking off for Wind 
 River, an upper reach of the Big Horn above the 
 mouth of the Popo-agie. 
 
 They were now in the Crow country and did 
 not have much fear of being molested. Follow- 
 ing down the Big Horn Valley they saw no 
 Indians except those of their party until within 
 one day's journey of the Yellowstone, when they 
 came upon four hundred lodges of Crows. 
 
AT FORT UNION 249 
 
 Black Arrow insisted they tarry and have a 
 feast. He was very keen for his tribesmen to 
 witness Medicine Knife's dexterity. But Bridger 
 did not dare to pause for fear of arriving at Fort 
 Union after Berger had brought news of the 
 fight and packs to Kenneth McKenzie. 
 
 Some of the leading men showed a disposition 
 to prevent Bridger from proceeding, and began 
 to act ugly. But Black Arrow was a man of 
 influence, and when his men had displayed their 
 wealth of Blackfeet scalps and told how many 
 horses and scalps were to arrive^ the white men 
 were allowed to go on. 
 
 Bridger had expected Black Arrow to keep with 
 him to the mouth of the Yellowstone, but the 
 chief could not resist the temptation to cross to 
 the village and participate in the great victory 
 dance. In return for many trade goods to be 
 delivered later the chief promised that none of his 
 people would interfere with Papa Clair and his 
 beaver packs. 
 
 Bridger nearly exhausted his companions in 
 the short dash for the Yellowstone. He feared 
 lest the Crows attempt some mischief, not vio- 
 lence but the theft of their weapons or horses. 
 However, nothing occurred to disturb them, and 
 
250 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 except for their haste Lander would have enjoyed 
 the trip immensely. 
 
 The valley teemed with game and the traveling 
 was easy. Reaching the confluence of the Big 
 Horn and YeIk>wstone, Bridger chose the south, 
 or right, bank, and without any unusual incidents 
 pressed on until he had crossed the Rosebud and 
 Tongue, when he passed to the north side of the 
 river. 
 
 "What would happen if the Fort Union outfit 
 learned we had the H. B. packs?" asked Lander 
 on the last day of their trip. 
 
 Bridger chuckled grimly and replied : 
 
 "We wouldn't have 'em long if Kenneth 
 McKenzie could help it. An' he's the king up 
 here. He'd never let forty packs of prime beaver 
 slip through his hands like that. He'd buy 'em, 
 or take 'em. 
 
 "He'd show a paper from Ferguson, naming 
 him, agent for the H. B. He'd show a paper 
 saying as how he had bought all title to 'em, with 
 Ferguson signing it as the H. B.'s representative. 
 If we held out he'd charge us with stealing 'em 
 an' lock us up until the beaver was under lock an' 
 key, or on the way down-river. 
 
 "If we went into court in St. Louis an' proved 
 
AT FORT UNION 251 
 
 our claim the A. F. C. would pay the price, minus 
 the H. B.'s ten per cent. The A. F. C. has more 
 power up here with the Injuns than the govern- 
 ment has. So we must git the keelboat an' load 
 it an' be off down-river the minute the packs 
 come along. 
 
 ''Don't you open your meat-trap while at the 
 fort. Keep shet. Above all things don't start a 
 row with Phinny. Warm up to him an' tell how 
 glad you be he escaped. 
 
 "Don't wander away from the fort where old 
 Deschamps can git a crack at you. I'll do all the 
 talking, an' I won't seem to be in a hurry or look 
 fussed up any. Kenneth McKenzie is a mighty 
 hard man to fool." 
 
 By late afternoon they made the mouth of the 
 Yellowstone. The channel was narrow and the 
 water was low and they had no trouble in swim- 
 ming their horses across to the north side of the 
 Missouri. As they rode up the bank and came in 
 sight of the solid pretentious structure of Fort 
 Union, more persistently and intimately con- 
 nected with the fur trade than any other post, 
 Bridger whimsically remarked : 
 
 "You're almost eighteen hundred channel miles 
 from the little lady in St. Louis, an* whether you 
 
252 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 see her soon or go back to the mountains depends 
 on how strong your medicine works for you while 
 we're up there." 
 
 He pointed to the fort as he spoke. And even 
 to Lander, fresh from St. Louis, the fort seemed 
 to reflect the indomitable will and iron power of 
 the mighty American Fur Company, against 
 which all opposition was waged and which was to 
 destroy or absorb all opponents. 
 
 The stockade measured more than two hundred 
 feet on a side, with the bastions at the southwest 
 and northeast corners. These bastions were 
 houses thirty feet in height, built of stone with 
 the lower story pierced for cannon, and with a 
 balcony around the upper story for the purpose of 
 observation. The two travelers saw men on the 
 northeast balcony, presumably watching them, for 
 one hastily disappeared as if to announce their 
 coming. 
 
 Bridger gravely watched the lone man on the 
 balcony for a few moments; then with a shrug 
 of the shoulders he assumed his careless, good- 
 natured and devil-may-care expression and rode 
 for the single gate. An engage was on the point 
 of closing this, but waited until they had entered. 
 
 In the middle of the huge square stood a sev- 
 
AT FORT UNION 253 
 
 enty-foot flagstaff, and beside it were two cannon 
 trained to cover the entrance. Surrounding the 
 staff were the leather tents of the half-breed 
 employees. At the rear of the square and facing 
 the entrance stood the two-story house of Ken- 
 neth McKenzie, first king of the Missouri and 
 the greatest bourgeois the A. F. C. ever had. 
 
 The house, like the other buildings inside the 
 enclosure, was built of cottonwood. It boasted 
 glass windows. Lander blinked in surprise. He 
 had heard much about Fort Union in St. Louis, 
 but was never able to draw an accurate line 
 between fact and fiction. The powder-magazine, 
 built of cut stone and having a capacity — as 
 Bridger afterward informed him — of fifty thous- 
 and pounds, also increased his respect for his for- 
 mer employer. 
 
 There were well-equipped shops for the smith 
 and carpenter and other workmen. There was 
 an atmosphere of stability about the place. No 
 wonder the Indians were slow to shift their alle- 
 giance to the flimsy post erected by the opposi- 
 tion, who in the river argot were known as one- 
 winter-house traders. 
 
 *T'm Jim Bridger. I want to see Mr. McKen- 
 zie," Bridger told the engage. 
 
254 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "He is sitting- down to supper, Mr. Bri'dger. 
 Places liave been laid for you," said the engage. 
 He called a breed to take care of the horses and 
 led the way inside the fort 
 
 Here again the travelers found all the conve- 
 niences they would expect in the average inn back 
 in civilization. As they were leaving the wash- 
 room the man joined them with two black coats, 
 and apologetically informed: 
 
 "Mr. McKenzie's rule that every one shall wear 
 a coat at the table, Mr. Bridger. I haven't any 
 doubt but what he would let the rule go hang in 
 your case^ but if you don't mind slipping this 
 on " 
 
 "We'll be glad to wear 'em," cheerfully inter- 
 rupted Bridger. 
 
 They were then conducted to the long room 
 where McKenzie and his staff had their meals. 
 McKenzie left the head of the table and greeted 
 Bridger warmly. He spared a nod for Lander, 
 but retaining Bridger's hand exclaimed : 
 
 "If I'd had any notion it was you, Mr. Bridger, 
 I should have rode to the river to meet you. Sit 
 here at my right. Let the young man find a 
 place among the clerks," and he pointed to the 
 foot of the table. 
 
:^T FORT UNION 255 
 
 Here was a greater caste distinction than Lan- 
 der would have experienced in any household in 
 St. Louis. The men were seated according to 
 the rank of their occupation, and Susette's lover 
 found himself decidedly below the salt and in the 
 company of several harum-scarum youngsters 
 going through their probation. 
 
 McKenzie was dressed in the St. Louis mode, 
 and there was nothing in his carefully groomed 
 and well-garbed appearance that could suggest 
 the eighteen hundred miles between him and a 
 civilized table. It would be several years before 
 there would be even a rough settlement of whites 
 above Independence. 
 
 What made an instant appeal to Lander and 
 caused him to forget he was treated as being at 
 par with the least of the staff was sight of the 
 food. There were platters heaped high with 
 tender, fat buffalo-meat. There were dishes of 
 game birds and plenty of fresh butter, cream and 
 milk. 
 
 However, and this was the only suggestion of 
 stinting, there were only two biscuits at a plate. 
 For although Fort Union might for a time run 
 its own distillery in defiance of the law its bread 
 ration remained something of a problem. To add 
 
256 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 the final glamour to the feast was the snow-white 
 cloth covering the table and the two colored men 
 in white jackets serving" as waiters. 
 
 From the low chatter of his immediate neigh- 
 bors Lander learned more details of how McKen- 
 zie played* the dictator on the Upper Missouri. 
 Being fond of lingering over his wine he went 
 to bed late. It was late when he arose, and, 
 worst of all, no one could have breakfast until he 
 was up and ready to be served. So the morning 
 meal was seldom eaten earlier than nine o'clock. 
 
 From the clerks' babbling Lander deduced that 
 Phinny had never mentioned him at the fort. He 
 was glad of this. He casually spoke of seeing 
 Phinny at the rendezvous and was elated and 
 much surprised to be informed that his old enemy 
 had not yet returned from Green River. To get 
 there ahead of Phinny impressed him as being 
 the best of luck. 
 
 He talked shop with the young men and 
 learned that the early fall was the time for the 
 jerked meat and tallow trade, the Indians taking 
 hardly anything but liquor for this trade. 
 
 "But wait till old Berger fixes things with the 
 Blackfeet," said one clerk. "Chief Good-Woman 
 used to know him on the Saskatchewan and Ber- 
 
AT FORT UNION 257 
 
 ger's up there now, somewheres on the Marias. 
 Berger's to be paid eight hundred dollars a year 
 if he gets the Blackfeet to consent to our building 
 a trading post on the Marias. 
 
 "You were lucky to get here without being 
 robbed. A canoe band of Assiniboins, worst of 
 that tribe and greatest thieves ever lived, started 
 for the Crow county to steal horses. Don't see 
 how you missed them." 
 
 But Lander was now all ears for the upper end 
 of the table. McKenzie was saying: 
 
 "Mr. Bridger, here at Union alone last win- 
 ter we made four hundred and sixty packs of 
 robes, and other peltries in proportion. Our out- 
 posts sent in thirty-five hundred pounds of pow- 
 dered buffalo-meat and three thousand pounds of 
 dried. Our run of fox was remarkable. Lamont 
 and his men alone brought us forty-two hundred 
 buffalo-robes from up-river." 
 
 Bridger kept on eating and nodded in approval. 
 At last he took time to say : 
 
 "Fine if any one goes in for robes. I never 
 bother with 'em. I sold your young man quite 
 a few packs. Took his order on St. Louis for 
 'em. Don't see him here." 
 
 McKenzie looked surprised and asked to see 
 
258 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 the order. Bridger produced it and the nabob 
 of the river read it carefully; then gravely 
 informed : 
 
 "Perfectly correct, Mr. Bridger. I gave him 
 authority to draw orders on St. Louis in case a 
 man isn't coming here. Had he known you were 
 coming to Fort Union he would have left the 
 order for me to draw. 
 
 "I'm glad to have you turn the robes in to us. 
 We deal in a big way. I'll get ten thousand robes 
 from the Blackfeet next season. 
 
 "When I sent A. J. Tulloch to the Crows I told 
 him to get them into the habit of trading — to 
 trade them for anything they had. He went to 
 the Yellowstone and some of his men were killed 
 by a war-party of Blackfeet while they were 
 chopping wood. 
 
 "He stuck and traded the Crows. His first 
 returns made our men here laugh until they were 
 sick. Hardly anything but elk and deer horns. 
 Yet his trade on the whole was profitable because 
 the A. F. C. can handle anything. That's why 
 the Indians like us; we'll trade for anything 
 they've got." 
 
 "Phinny isn't here." 
 
 "You must have passed him. Probably he was 
 
AT FORT UNION 259 
 
 resting" at the Crow village and arranging* for the 
 winter trade. I'm glad to get the robes. Any 
 time you have any we'll take them." 
 
 "I don't care to bother with 'em/' Bridger care- 
 lessly assured. "All I'm after is beaver." 
 
 "We do quite a bit with beaver, and we shall 
 do more. My man, Jacob Berger, is up visiting 
 the Piegans. They're the best beaver-hunters 
 among the Blackfeet, and as the opposition hasn't 
 taken all the beaver above Milk River I'm expect- 
 ing rather good returns from there." 
 
 **When does Berger git back ?" 
 
 "Any time now." 
 
 "You'll be the first to git into their good 
 feelings," said Bridger with a genial smile. "By 
 the way, do you happen to have a keelboat in your 
 chantier (navy yard) ? I'd like to buy it if you 
 have. I'll give a St. Louis order for it. It'll 
 help cancel my order on you." 
 
 "Our chantier is twenty-five miles up-river, 
 you know," slowly replied McKenzIe, trying to 
 imagine why Bridger, arriving without packs, 
 should want a keelboat. 
 
 "I don't know just what we have there, or 
 what condition it may be in. I might be willing 
 to sell one. Of course we have use for all our 
 
26o KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 boats, but rd like to oblige you, as you'll some 
 time be working for the A. F. C. Yes, Mr. Brid- 
 ger, I'd go out of my way to oblige you." 
 
 "Mighty handsome of you," declared Bridger, 
 spearing a half-pound piece of meat. "IVe got 
 one down at Fort Pierre. Seeing as how I must 
 go down-river I thought I'd take it there to be 
 loaded with any packs we may be sending across- 
 country. We usually pack 'em into St. Louis on 
 our mules. Etienne Prevost is there at Pierre 
 waiting for me. 
 
 **0f course he can make bull-boats if it comes 
 to a pinch. An' then again we mayn't need 
 another boat. But I'd like to feel sure. Can use 
 it anyway." 
 
 **Why not come in with us?" bluntly asked 
 McKenzie. 
 
 "Mebbe I will. I'm hitched up pretty tight just 
 now, but with no settled posts to hold us together 
 I may be free before next season. Mighty nice 
 place you got here." 
 
 "I pride myself on it, sir. We do not chase 
 the Indians. They must bring their hunt to us. 
 They fight among themselves but they never 
 bother us. Big war-parties are always coming 
 here. Sometimes they meet and fight outside. 
 
AT FORT UNION 261 
 
 Sometimes they send word for us to keep in the 
 fort so we won't be hurt. 
 
 "Old Gauche, the most feared and best obeyed 
 chief of the Assiniboins for forty years, stopped 
 here yesterday on his way from down-river where 
 he went to put a fight on the Aricaras. His med- 
 icine must have lied to him as he was soundly 
 whipped. He's had enough fighting for a while 
 and promised to bring me in two hundred robes. 
 
 "Rather easy way to get trade, eh? Very 
 comfortable quarters. Annual steamer bringing 
 supplies and those little things it's hard to get 
 when living off a mule's back." 
 
 And he illustrated his meaning by tapping the 
 bottle of wine that stood between them. Then 
 reflectively : 
 
 "If you care to ride up to the chamtier and see 
 what we have for a boat I think we could arrange 
 it." 
 
 "Mebbe I will to-morrow or next day," said 
 Bridger. 
 
 "There are three there, I believe. Take any 
 one." 
 
 "That's very kind of you." 
 
Chapter XI 
 
 THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 
 
 A FTER supper Bridger walked about and 
 ^ ^ inspected the fort and admired its arrange- 
 ment, and visited McKenzie*s home and ex- 
 pressed a proper amount of appreciation. Mc- 
 Kenzie was determined to overwhelm him with 
 the comforts and resources of the place, and all 
 the time Bridger was burning with impatience to 
 be off up-river to the chantier. If one of the 
 boats was what he wanted he intended to get it 
 down to the mouth of the Yellowstone and a few 
 miles up that stream, and hide it until Papa Clair 
 came along with the packs. 
 
 To get the rich prize out of the country he 
 knew the loading and start must be worked with- 
 out a hitch. Not only might Phinny arrive at any 
 moment, having learned the truth of the beaver 
 packs from the Crows, but Berger was hourly 
 expected, and he would be sure to know. But 
 262 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 263 
 
 there was no suggestion of impatience or worry 
 in Bridger's genial bearing. 
 
 McKenzie excused himself to attend to some 
 routine matter and Bridger lounged up to Lander 
 and without looking at him muttered : 
 
 "Sound the clerks about the boats at the 
 chantier — number and condition. He says there 
 are three there. We can have our pick. At first 
 I thought he was going to refuse — suddenly gave 
 in — signs look bad. Wait for me if you have to 
 keep awake all night. Tve got to set up with him 
 and a bottle." 
 
 Until deep into the night Bridger listened to 
 McKenzie's invitations to join the A. F. C. and 
 his boastings of the company's remarkable suc- 
 cess. If ever a man was licensed to feel proud 
 from a trader's view-point of his success in the 
 fur trade, it was Kenneth McKenzie. 
 
 How far he would have gone without the back- 
 ing of the all-powerful company is another ques- 
 tion. He was preeminently a trading-post man. 
 It is doubtful if he could have plunged into the 
 heart of an unknown country and attained the 
 success that Bridger repeatedly scored. 
 
 Of the two men Bridger's life and efforts have 
 been of vastly more value to posterity. McKenzie 
 
264 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 was a superlative trader. Bridger was an excel- 
 lent trader, a great explorer and a born topog- 
 rapher. As a hunter, trapper and guide he had 
 few equals. In the last capacity Fate was drilling 
 him for a most important task with Johnston's 
 army in '57 and the Indian campaign of *6^-66. 
 
 McKenzie built exclusively for the advance- 
 ment of the American Fur Company. Bridger 
 built for the mighty hosts of humanity about to 
 break loose across the plains and through the 
 Rockies. 
 
 The mountain man listened gravely, never once 
 mentioning the keelboat. McKenzie further to 
 influence him quoted at length from his records 
 of the huge number of fox, white hare, badger, 
 white wolf, swanskins and dressed cowskins, in 
 addition to the staple beaver and robes, the post 
 handled every year. 
 
 "Mr. Bridger," he solemnly declared as he fin- 
 ished his display of records. "I'll promise you 
 that you shall be made the head of a new depart- 
 ment — ^bourgeois of the Rocky Mountain outfit 
 of the A. F. C. with headquarters on Green River 
 — at a salary of five thousand a year and a suit- 
 ble percentage of the profits. There, sir! That 
 is a proposition that I couldn't make with head- 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 265 
 
 quarters' consent to any other man in the 
 mountains." 
 
 "It's a good offer," mused Bridger, "providing 
 the percentage is all right. Not that there ain't a 
 dozen men who can handle the work just as well 
 as me. As I've said it all depends on the per- 
 centage, when you come to figuring its real value. 
 Beaver won't always last. Big fortunes is to be 
 made in it now, and I know beaver. But I'm 
 much obliged for the offer. I'll chew it over on 
 my way down-river." 
 
 "Think about it to-night," urged McKenzIe. 
 "And remember I never lie when I want a man — 
 I tell him the blunt truth." 
 
 "Of course — makes a feller mad to find out 
 some one has been lying to him. No sense in it. 
 Now I'll turn in." 
 
 He proceeded to the room set apart for them 
 and found Lander fully dressed and sound asleep. 
 It was obvious he had tried to keep awake to make 
 his report. Bridger shook him out of his slum- 
 ber and softly asked : 
 
 "What do the clerks say about the boats at the 
 chantier^^ 
 
 Lander blinked owlishly at the door and sur- 
 prised his friend by stealing to it and glancing 
 
266 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 out into the hall. Stumbling back to Bridger he 
 whispered : 
 
 "It's derned queer. Overheard it by chance 
 when two of the clerks got to cussing their luck. 
 When McKenzie left you it was to tell the clerks 
 to take men and ride up to the chantier and bring 
 down two keelboats and leave them on the north 
 bank of the river, five miles above here. They 
 started at once. 
 
 "From another clerk I found out there were 
 three boats there just as he said, but one's so 
 smashed up it's beyond repair. It's the smashed- 
 up one we'll find." 
 
 "Which is darned poor listening," growled 
 Bridger. "We must start early in the morning. 
 He told me to take my pick of the boats up there. 
 I'll do it! An' he said he never lied to a man 
 when he wanted him. 
 
 "One thing's sartain ; if we don't git a keelboat 
 we'll trust to luck with the bull-boats. If we have 
 to do that I'll be mighty sorry we didn't make for 
 the Platte an' its shallow water. But I did want 
 to go this way so's I could turn the packs over to 
 Prevost an' git back to the mountains. Mebbe 
 our medicine will work for us. Who knows ?" 
 
 Only the horse-herders were astir when Brid- 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 267 
 
 ger aroused Lander from his unfinished slumbers. 
 Lander sleepily repaired to the square and found 
 his horse saddled and waiting-. Bridger whistled 
 and his own animal was brought from the shed. 
 
 "We'll start at once and eat a bite as we ride/* 
 said Bridger, swinging into the saddle. "I've 
 raided the cook and have a saddle-bag filled with 
 provender. Don't try to talk until we get clear of 
 the fort." And he glanced up at the bastion as if 
 expecting to behold McKenzie on the balcony. 
 
 The river bank was shrouded in the early 
 morning mists and at a distance of a few hundred 
 yards the fort became half-lost to view, the stock- 
 ade entirely blotted out. 
 
 "McKenzie thinks there is some game being 
 played," tersely broke out Bridger. "He wants 
 to be mighty nice for he wants to git me into the 
 A. F. C. But the keelboat sticks in his crop. He 
 ain't made up his mind just what he'll do. 
 
 "To git time to think he sends men on the sly 
 to fetch away any boat that'll hold water an' 
 leave the bu'sted one. This makes it safe for him 
 to tell me I can have my pick of boats up there. 
 
 "I'll come back with a talk that the boat ain't 
 no good. He'll be surprised an' talk to the clerk. 
 All of this will take time. An' it'll give him 
 
268 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 room to do some thinking. He ain't satisfied 
 about me coming here. 
 
 "When we git back from the chantier it's most 
 likely he'll take a whirl at asking you questions. 
 You won't know nothing, of course. Our danger 
 is that Phinny or Jake Berger will come along 
 before we quit wasting time — or worse still, that 
 Papa Clair may come down the Yellowstone in 
 his bull-boats an' be seen by some of the engages. 
 Lordy, that would be a mess !" 
 
 "Phinny may be quitting the Crow village just 
 as Papa Clair comes along," suggested Lander. 
 
 "If you was a Injun you'd stick pine splinters 
 into a prisoner an' light 'em before burning him at 
 the stake," grinned Bridger. "Now keep shet 
 while I look at the trail." 
 
 The sun was burning away the mists, and the 
 trail they were following was broad and ancient. 
 From immemorial times the buffalo had followed 
 it; the Indians had followed it. It offered no 
 information to Lander — ^no more than would a 
 pavement of rock. To Bridger it babbled with 
 many voices. The best plainsmen of his day said 
 never an Indian nor a single horse could cross his 
 path without his detecting the fact and determin- 
 ing how old was the bisecting trail. 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 269 
 
 The trail was hard packed by countless moc- 
 casins and hoofs, yet Bridger dismounted and 
 dropped on his knees and became deeply inter- 
 ested in searching the brown earth. On the out- 
 skirts of the path the signs of recent travel were 
 fresher. For twenty minutes the mountain man 
 worked from the center of the trail to the edge 
 and then back again, and as his investigation ad- 
 vanced Lander noted he confined all his attention 
 to the north side. 
 
 Finally he rose and mounted his horse and 
 announced : 
 
 "According to the number of horses some three 
 hundred warriors are in Gauche's party." 
 
 "McKenzie said he had passed this way after 
 being licked by the Aricaras," reminded Lander, 
 beginning to think the time was lost. 
 
 "I wasn't pawing round to find out if McKen- 
 zie was speaking the truth, or was a liar. A blind 
 man could read that part of the storry without git- 
 ting off his horse,'* ironically retorted Bridger. 
 
 "What McKenzie didn't say, an' probably 
 didn't know, was that Gauche, or Left Hand as 
 some call him, has got a sick man an' a travois. 
 The band was moving very slow at this point. 
 We'll have to dodge their camp within the next 
 
270 'KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 few miles. He might want us to stay an* visit 
 him. 
 
 "The trail is twenty-four hours old, but one 
 man on a lame horse has come along here within 
 the last hour. He stops every little v/ay. He's 
 either studying the Assiniboin trail, or waiting 
 for us. All of which means we must ride with 
 our eyes open." 
 
 Two miles were passed without any attempt at 
 conversation. Bridger had kept his gaze focused 
 on the winding road. Suddenly he exclaimed 
 under his breath and dismounted and dropped on 
 his hands and knees. He crawled slowly from 
 the trail for a distance of fifty feet. When he 
 returned his face was grave. 
 
 "Eight men on foot swung into the trail where 
 your nag stands. They stood an' talked with 
 the man on horseback ; then the nine of them quit 
 the trail an' struck into the bush. The men on 
 foot wasn't Assiniboins, Each had a gun as you 
 can tell by the faint marks where they rested the 
 butts while chinning the mounted man. They toe 
 in an' their moccasins are heavier an' stronger 
 than them worn by the Assiniboins, showing they. 
 go much afoot. They must be breeds that hang 
 round the fort. 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 271 
 
 "They've Tarned that Gauche is In camp with 
 a sick man. Sick man must be a big medicine 
 man or a chief, else Gauche wouldn^t hold up his 
 march for him. The breeds probably figger to 
 sneak in after dark an' run off the horses. The 
 camp must be within a mile or two an' the breeds 
 are drawing well back from the trail to wait until 
 night." 
 
 They rode for a bit when Bridger led off from 
 the trail and explained : 
 
 *T want to give Gauche a wide berth. He's 
 sure to be ugly as a bear with a sore head along 
 of the whipping he got down-river. We'll beat 
 back a few miles an' then strike straight for the 
 chantier." 
 
 The traveling became much slower after they 
 left the trail. Bridger watched for signs of men 
 afoot but found none, and this convinced him 
 that his deductions were correct. The nine men 
 had simply withdrawn to one side to wait until 
 dark. With the quickness of the forest bred he 
 slipped from his horse and leveled his rifle across 
 the saddle before Lander could imagine what was 
 the matter. ' 
 
 Then among the bushes he made out the figure 
 of an Indian woman. Her hair was g-rav and as 
 
272 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 she stared at them she tore at it. With a little 
 laugh at his alarm Bridger swung back into the 
 saddle and the woman eagerly advanced and be- 
 gan talking shrilly and rapidly. 
 
 "She's speaking Assiniboin/' said Bridger as 
 he watched and hstened. "I git it all right." 
 
 The woman ceased talking and made signs. 
 Bridger nodded and said : 
 
 "One of your young men is hurt ?'* 
 
 "Hurt very bad," she replied. "Come and 
 make him medicine." 
 
 Bridger possessed the mountain man's knowl- 
 edge of emergency surgery. Also was he imbued 
 with the superstitions of the Indians. He 
 believed in his medicine. His kind heart urged 
 him to follow the woman. His commercial 
 instinct warned that he had no time to lose if he 
 would visit the chantier and return to the fort 
 before Phinny or Jake Berger arrived to inform 
 McKenzie about the forty packs. He explained 
 the situation to Lander. 
 
 The woman was laboring under great mental 
 distress. There was none of the Indian stoicism 
 Lander had heard so much about. Lander's sym- 
 pathy was aroused. 
 
 Bridger asked how far she had come. She held 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 273 
 
 the thumb and forefinger of her hands together 
 as if holding a thread, then pulled them apart a 
 few inches, then raised a hand with finger erect 
 and moved it from side to side and forward. 
 
 *'Says we can git there in a short time an' in 
 a few steps," translated Bridger. "Reckon we'd 
 best go with her. My medicine feels strong this 
 morning. Some worthless breed ; but if he's hurt, 
 he's hurt." 
 
 The woman seemed overwhelmed with joy as 
 he motioned her to lead the way. She ran ahead 
 and repeatedly looked back to make sure they 
 were following her. In this fashion she led them 
 nearly a mile through the bush-grown area. 
 
 Bridger finally reined in and beckoned her to 
 come back. She shook her head and pointed, and 
 gestured for him to come on, and to convince 
 him he had all but arrived she raised her voice and 
 called out. 
 
 Bridger set his horse in motion, his eyes on the 
 w^oman, and although his quick ear caught the 
 rustling of bushes he was surrounded and his gim 
 snatched from his hand before he could turn his 
 head. A side glance revealed Lander likewise 
 disarmed and dazed by the quickness of it all. 
 
 The woman ahead danced and flung her arms 
 
274 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 above her head and cackled hideously. Directly- 
 ahead of Bridger stood old Deschamps, and his 
 gun covered Bridger's chest. To Lander, Brid- 
 ger called out : 
 
 "Take it easy. Don't show any fight — yet. 
 That old hag led us into a' ambush. These are 
 thieving breeds. What the devil's the matter 
 Vi^ith that medicine of mine!" Then to Des- 
 champs : "Why do you hold me up like this?'* 
 
 "We want to have a talk with you," Deschamps 
 explained in Assiniboin. 
 
 "Talk Crow or English, you thieving devil," 
 commanded Bridger. 
 
 "Get down and come into our hut," ordered 
 Deschamps, backing away a few steps and speak- 
 ing in the Crow tongue. 
 
 "That skunk Phinny is in there waiting for 
 us?" 
 
 "No. I left him at the Crow village on the 
 Yellowstone. He is to marry my girl — make her 
 his wife like white men marry white women. But 
 I do not trust him yet," chuckled Deschamps. 
 
 As he finished a young woman, comely of 
 feature and graceful of form, came bounding 
 through the growth and stared wide-eyed at the 
 white men. Lander caught her fancy for a mo- 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 275 
 
 ment, and she drew close to him and peered up 
 into his hot face. 
 
 She showed her white blood in her complexion 
 and light-gray eyes, but there was frank animal- 
 ism in her steady stare that made Lander nervous 
 and caused her to laugh scornfully. Darting to 
 Bridger she placed a small foot in the stirrup 
 and lifted herself erect and maintained her bal- 
 ance by seizing his shaggy brown hair. 
 
 Bridger's gaze was as cold as hers was volcanic. 
 Her insolence changed to something akin to admi- 
 ration and she tugged his hair playfully. 
 
 "Phinny's squaw!" exclaimed Bridger, seizing 
 her wrists and forcing her to release her grasp. 
 
 She fought like a fury, trying to reach his face 
 with her fingers. With a grunt of disgust he 
 picked her up in his arms and tossed her over his 
 horse's head and into her father's arms. 
 
 With a scream of rage she pulled a dirk and 
 came at him, her teeth bare, her eyes blazing. 
 He made no move until her arm went back for the 
 blow; then he caught her wrist and gave it a 
 wrench that brought a howl of pain to her red 
 lips. Turning toward Deschamps he sternly 
 ordered : 'Take this hell-cat away." 
 
 Deschamps shrugged his shoulders, showing 
 
2^6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 no inclination to interfere. But another of the 
 family, Francois, the oldest son, dropped his gun 
 and pinioned the girl's hands to her sides and 
 carried her into the bush. When he came back 
 the girl did not attempt to follow him. 
 
 "Good lord! What a woman!" gasped Lan- 
 der. He stood in greater fear of the pretty vixen 
 than he did of the entire Deschamps gang. 
 
 "If Phinny marries her he will be paying the 
 price for all his deviltry." 
 
 "Get down," ordered Deschamps. 
 
 There was an ominous steadying of guns and 
 Bridger quietly slid from the saddle and motioned 
 for Lander to do likewise. 
 
 "You and your gang plan to steal Gauche's 
 horses while he camps to cure a sick man," Brid- 
 ger accused. 
 
 Deschamps w^as startled. The white man's 
 medicine was very wise to read his plans. His 
 villainous old face hardened. When the white 
 man showed he knew so much he dug his own 
 grave. After he had answered certain important 
 questions he and his young friend would disap- 
 pear. Bridger swung his bold gaze over the cir- 
 cle of sullen faces and remarked : 
 
 "My medicine is whispering to me that your 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 277 
 
 friend Francois will be killed very soon — ^I see 
 Jack Rem and his three sons. They hunt with 
 the Deschamps now but my medicine says the 
 time is just ahead when the two families will fight 
 and kill each other off. Wait — ^my medicine is 
 whispering." 
 
 He paused and tilted his head and smiled 
 grimly — then announced: 
 
 "My medicine says Baptiste Gardepied is com- 
 ing after you with a big war-party of Blackfeet. 
 Better git yourself killed before he gets you." 
 
 "You lie!" hissed Deschamps. "Gardepied 
 knows I will kill him and has left the country." 
 
 "He is wnth the Blackfeet and has turned them 
 against you. He almost caught you when you 
 betrayed my young man into the hands of the 
 Blackfeet. He set the young man free. He will 
 kill you." 
 
 "No more, or I will kill you," yelled Des- 
 champs, now beside himself with rage. 
 
 Francois feared his father's anger would break 
 up their plans, so he now assumed command and 
 gave an order. 
 
 The men closed in about Bridger and Lander 
 and poked them with their guns and drove them 
 toward the old woman who had acted as the 
 
278 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 decoy. She fell back as the prisoners were made 
 to advance, and within a few minutes halted 
 before a long log cabin roofed with bark. 
 
 The whites were pushed through the low door, 
 the breeds following and remaining between them 
 and the only exit. On each side of the room was 
 a small opening, high up and too small for a man 
 to escape through. These answered for windows 
 and admitted light. 
 
 In the middle of the room was a short section 
 of a Cottonwood log, standing on end to serve as 
 a stool. Bridger appropriated the stool and Lan- 
 der dropped on the hard-packed earth at his side 
 and clasped his hands over his knees — the knife in 
 his right boot being ready for his hand. 
 
 Deschamps stepped ahead of his gang to act as 
 inquisitor, but before he could begin, his daughter 
 squirmed her way through the group and darted 
 like a fury toward Bridger and raised a long- 
 barreled pistol. The intrusion was so quickly 
 completed that not a man moved, and as she stood 
 crouching before her victim, the pistol leveled, the 
 occupants of the room became paralyzed and 
 glared blankly and waited for the tragedy to 
 arouse them to action. 
 
 Bridger, on the stool, remained calm of coun- 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 279 
 
 tenance, his gray eyes meeting and holding the 
 eyes of the woman. Her bosom rose and fell with 
 the lust to kill. Still the gray eyes held her gaze 
 captive, and as she stared she found herself dis- 
 covering strange depths in the dilated pupils. 
 
 No one about the door dared move, for fear 
 of precipitating the homicide. Lander was frozen 
 with horror of the situation and looked straight 
 ahead, waiting for the pistol to speak. For a 
 slow count of ten the tableau endured, then with 
 a shriek the girl dropped the pistol, threw up both 
 hands and staggered blindly for the door. 
 
 The men gave way and in silence watched her 
 depart. The white man's medicine was very 
 powerful when it could tame a wildcat like the 
 Deschamps girl. Bridger picked up the pistol 
 and examined it and then laid it between his feet. 
 
 Deschamps recovered first from the general 
 stupor. He ordered : "Give up that pistol." 
 
 "The young woman gave it to me. I will keep 
 it here," quietly replied Bridger. 
 
 "Give it up or I fire !" commanded Deschamps 
 aiming his gun. 
 
 "That would spoil your plans. You brought 
 us here for something," reminded Bridger, plac- 
 ing a moccasin on the pistol. 
 
28o KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Let him keep it. We have many guns/' spoke 
 up Francois. 
 
 "But we will shoot if his hand touches it 
 again," added Jack Rem. 
 
 Deschamps changed his attitude and called out 
 for the old woman to see that the girl did not 
 enter the cabin again. Then turning to Bridger 
 he asked: "Where are the packs of beaver you 
 took from the Blackfoot medicine-lodge?" 
 
 "Oh, ho! So that was the cat in the bag, eh?" 
 chuckled Bridger. "Did Phinny think I was 
 carrying 'em with me? You might look in my 
 saddle-bags; or perhaps my young man has 'em 
 in his belt." 
 
 "Phinny doesn't know about them," sullenly 
 replied Deschamps. He added : 
 
 "I was told about them at the Crow village a 
 day's march below the mouth of the Yellowstone. 
 Black Arrow told his warriors to say nothing 
 about the packs to us, but one man was my friend 
 and told me. Phinny does not understand the 
 Crow tongue. He knows nothing. Ferguson 
 may find out about it, but he had not when I 
 left the village." 
 
 Bridger eyed him in admiration. Deschamps' 
 reputation for bloodthirsty deviltry was known 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 281 
 
 to most mountain men, but few would have cred- 
 ited him with scheming to steal forty thousand 
 dollars' worth of beaver, unless he found the 
 packs cached and unguarded. His larceny was 
 especially daring since it involved the deception 
 of an A. F. C. man. 
 
 "Pretty smart for a' Injun. What did the 
 Crows tell you?" asked Bridger. 
 
 "How you and the boy got the packs. You 
 two came through the valley alone. Your com- 
 ing to Union tells me the packs will come down 
 the Yellowstone. You are not such a fool as to 
 have them brought to the fort where Phinny and 
 McKenzie would see them. Phinny hired Fergu- 
 son away from you. He will handle the Crow 
 trade for the A. F. C. this winter." 
 
 "Phinny will be coming; to the fort soon," 
 mused Bridger. 
 
 "He started as soon as he found I had gone," 
 growled Deschamps. "But he better be careful. 
 He wanted my girl for his squaw. Now he 
 doesn't seem to want her so much. But he can't 
 make a fool of her. She's got white blood in her. 
 He'll take her, or Til cut his throat." 
 
 "She'll cut his throat if he takes her," grunted 
 the younger Deschamps with a hideous leer. 
 
282 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "I don't like him. I'm going to kill him any- 
 way," growled Francois. 
 
 "Keep still !" snarled Deschamps. To Bridger : 
 
 "I'm waiting to know when the packs will 
 come through and how. Tell me and you won't 
 be hurt." 
 
 "They're to come by pack mules. How do I 
 know when a string of mules will git into Fort 
 Union, you fool ? Phinny may hold them up for 
 all I know. Perhaps he has them now." 
 
 Deschamps gnawed his lips and eyed Bridger 
 evilly. Jack Rem spoke up and declared : 
 
 "Your w^hite medicine is strong, you say. It 
 better tell you where the packs are. My woman 
 was at the fort when you asked about a keelboat. 
 You want it for the packs." 
 
 Deschamps stamped his feet and cried : 
 
 "Good for you, Jack Rem. Your woman shall 
 have much red cloth. She has sharp ears. 
 
 "So you'd fool the old fox, would you, Brid- 
 ger? Keep him covered, boys. I'll give him until 
 I fill my pipe to tell when the packs will come 
 down the Yellow^stone." 
 
 Bridger bowed his hea'd and pondered deeply. 
 There w^ere nine of them, all armed and not a bit 
 averse to murder. His and Lander's rifles stood 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 283 
 
 in the corner. He had a short sk inning-knife in 
 his belt and Lander had his long blade in his 
 boot. His moccasin rested on the long-barrel 
 pistol. One life — if it could be discharged. But 
 should either he or Lander make a move both 
 would be riddled. Were it in his power to turn 
 over the packs on the spot he knew the gang 
 would not permit him and Lander to leave the hut 
 alive could they help it. His only hope was to 
 play for time until a moment came when the gang 
 was off guard. 
 
 "Deschamps," he earnestly insisted, "I do not 
 know when the packs will come. Mebbe in three 
 days. Mebbe not for twice as long. Mebbe not 
 at all. I came ahead and traveled fast. That is 
 the best I can tell you." 
 
 "You'll do better than that or never leave this 
 hut," coolly retorted Deschamps, still rolling the 
 tobacco between his palms. "I've killed better men 
 than you. Tell the truth and you'll be kept here 
 till we get the packs. Then you'll be free to go." 
 
 Bridger smothered a smile, still fighting for a 
 little chance to turn up on which he could pivot 
 an offensive. Lifting his head he gravely said : 
 
 "My medicine knows everything. If it will tell 
 me I will tell you. I do not want to die. I can 
 
284 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 get more beaver. A life lost stays lost. I will 
 talk to my medicine." 
 
 Deschamps brightened and nodded for him to 
 proceed. 
 
 Bridger warned: "Let no one move or speak, 
 or I shall learn nothing." Then very deliberately 
 to show he intended no tricks he gently pushed 
 the pistol to one side, bent between his knees and 
 rested a finger on the earthen floor near Lander. 
 He tapped on the floor in front of the log which 
 serv^ed him for a stool, as if to attract his med- 
 icine, and succeeded in putting Lander on the 
 qui vive. Then he tilted his head as if listening, 
 and was able to keep an eye on the gang. 
 
 The breeds stood breathless and waited. None 
 of them had any doubts as to the virtue and intel- 
 ligence of Bridger's medicine. It was celebrated 
 for efficacy throughout the mountains. Nor was 
 there one who failed to understand how whim- 
 sical a man's medicine can be at times, and must 
 be catered to and indulged and have feasts made 
 for it. 
 
 Bridger's eyes widened and he began working 
 his finger in the dirt. Lander with a sidewise 
 gaze saw letters forming in the dirt. With much 
 business of listening to the mysterious voice and 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 28$ 
 
 taking care not to move his lips and give any 
 alarm Bridger slowly completed his message. 
 Lander read: 
 
 Fall flat when they fire then at em I shall thro 
 the log 
 
 Lander, staring blankly, patted his boot-leg to 
 show he understood. Bridger rocked his head 
 back and forth and began to groan; then he 
 bowed forward, his hands working convulsively 
 between his legs and against the log. He was like 
 a medicine man having convulsions. 
 
 "My m.edicine is here V he gasped, his eyes pro- 
 truding wildly, his hands resting on the sides of 
 the log, his legs straddling gradually apart. 
 
 "What does it say?" whispered Deschamps. 
 
 "This !" roared Bridger, surging forward while 
 his hands fetched the log between his legs and 
 with a violent toss hurled it into the group. And 
 as he made the cast he threw himself flat, pulled 
 Lander with him, and reached for the pistol. 
 
 As the two went down four of the men fired — 
 their lead plumping into the rear wall. Des- 
 champs was scrambling for his rifle and four of 
 the men were writhing on the floor — knocked 
 over by the weight of the heavy missile. 
 
286 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "At 'em!" yelled Brld^er, coming to his feet 
 and rushing toward the door. 
 
 He snapped the pistol at Deschamps and it 
 failed to explode. He hurled it and struck a man 
 in the chest. Lander was at his side, his knife 
 drawn. One of Rem's sons-in-law jumped to get 
 the prisoners' rifles, but Lander threw his knife 
 and pinned the man's arm to the wall. 
 
 The men knocked out by the log began crawl- 
 ing to their feet. Deschamps shrieked to the 
 others to use their knives. Before they could 
 draw their knives, however, Bridger was among 
 them, trying to bore a hole to the door. 
 
 He instantly became the hub of a revolving 
 wheel of fiercely fighting men. He caught old 
 Deschamps by the scruff of the neck and flung 
 him about as a shield while his free hand deliv- 
 ered smashing blows. The younger Deschamps 
 boy tried to dirk the mountain man but drove his 
 steel into his father's arm and was rewarded with 
 a string of horrible curses. 
 
 Bridger looked for Lander to help him and was 
 (dismayed to see him on the floor with blood flow- 
 ing from a cut on the head. A war-ax lay at his 
 side with blood on the handle. The exulting face 
 of the Descliamps girl in the doorway and the 
 
THE DESCHAMPS CLAN 287 
 
 direction of her gaze told him it was she who had 
 hurled the ax, and only by chance had the handle 
 instead of the blade struck the blow. 
 
 The sight of the young man maddened Brid- 
 ger. Pivoting on his heel he swept Deschamps 
 around in a circle, and maintained his balance 
 with his outstretched right fist — two spokes in a 
 terrible wheel. He felt Deschamps go limp and 
 knew his senses had been battered out of him. 
 
 Four men were down and showed no inclina- 
 tion to rise. Three men still opposed him as the 
 fellow pinned to the wall made no effort to 
 release himself, and Deschamps was unconscious. 
 Ceasing. his gyrations he lifted Deschamps above 
 his head and hurled him against Francois, and 
 evil father and son went down together. Leaping 
 over the prostrate bodies with two men after him 
 armed with knives, he reached the man pinned 
 against the wall, wrenched loose Lander's knife 
 and wheeled and slashed one of his assailants 
 across the face. Something fanned his cheek and 
 a knife stuck and vibrated in a log. Again the 
 girl at the door. Ignoring her and the chances of 
 further attention on her part he drove the remain- 
 ing combatant back and secured the two rifles. 
 
 Lander was now rolling his head and groaning. 
 
288 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Holding both guns in one hand, Bridger tossed 
 the long knife at Lander's side and cried : 
 
 "There's your medicine. Wake up an' pick it 
 up! We've Hcked 'em!" 
 
 Lander's fingers closed on the haft and he 
 crawled to his feet, glared wildly about, then 
 sensed the meaning of it all and lurched toward 
 his friend mumbling: 
 
 "You've licked them you mean. Lord, what a 
 fight you put up !" 
 
 "Reckon even Jim Baker would have to 
 knuckle down a little to this scrimmage," Bridger 
 proudly admitted as he swept his gaze over the 
 prostrate forms. 
 
 "Them two bears he fit an' killed weren't full 
 grown of course. But baby grizzlies are mighty 
 bad poison. Now we'll quit this place. Have 
 your knife ready an' look out for that hell-cat. 
 Some of these in here may be playing 'possum. 
 I'll back out an' keep 'em cooped up till you can 
 find an' fetch the horses. Go ahead." 
 
 Lander leaped through the doorway and 
 endeavored to cry a warning to his patron. 
 Bridger followed and was instantly seized and 
 hurled to the ground. 
 
Chapter XII 
 
 MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 
 
 r'LAT on his back Bridger looked up into a 
 * circle of savage faces. Lander stood help- 
 less between two warriors, a red hand over his 
 mouth. The men holding Bridger down stepped 
 back and permitted him to rise. Both his rifle 
 and knife had been taken from him when he was 
 first seized. 
 
 In addition to the circle about him there was 
 another and a stronger line a few rods back. He 
 made no move to escape, but when he observed 
 the Deschamps and Rem breeds sneaking through 
 the door and disappearing into the bush he called 
 on his captors to stop them. 
 
 "Let the dogs go. We know where to find 
 them when we are drunk and want to dance a 
 mangy scalp," spoke up a deep voice. 
 
 Bridger twisted about and beheld a short, pow- 
 erfully built Indian with much gray in his hair 
 289 
 
290 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 advancing through the inner circle. Waiting 
 until the man stood before him Bridger greeted : 
 
 "My friend Gauche comes after I have won my 
 fight." 
 
 Lander caught the one word Gauche, and knew 
 he was in the presence of perhaps the most cruel 
 and crafty Indian the Northwest had produced 
 in many years. 
 
 Gauche stared coldly at Bridger. He still 
 smarted from the drubbing inflicted by the 
 Aricaras. He knew Bridger was a mighty war- 
 rior, but he owed him no trade allegiance. There 
 was a smoldering rage in his black heart which 
 could be eased only by torture or ransom. 
 
 Bridger and his young man w^re not connected 
 with Fort Union, and there was no A. F. C. repri- 
 sal to fear. But Bridger was a big man in the 
 mountains, and at the head of a pioneer fur com- 
 pany. He was worth a fat ransom. 
 
 "Why don't you say something, Gauche? 
 Your men hear fighting and seize me and my 
 brother and let those mixed bloods go. They 
 came to steal your horses. Why are hands placed 
 on me? Don't you know it is bad business for 
 you to treat a white man this way? Or do you 
 want trouble with white men ?" 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 291 
 
 Gauche smiled inscrutably, and replied: 
 
 "I have said it. The Deschamps hair is mangy. 
 My medicine will not feed on such. When I 
 want them I will send some of my squaws to cut 
 off their heads. They have nothing I want. 
 
 "Now about yourself. What do I care for your 
 words ? Have the white men ever made Gauche, 
 the Left-Handed, run? When he calls himself 
 Wakontonga, the Great Medicine, does he go and 
 hide? When on the war-path he is known as 
 Mina-Yougha, the Kiiife-Holder, is he ever 
 afraid?" 
 
 "Has not Death many times sent to him say- 
 ing, *He invites you,' and has not Gauche always 
 answered with a laugh and returned to living out 
 his time ? Speak soft, white man ; do not leave a 
 trail of words that will make me angry." 
 
 "Squaw's talk," sneered Bridger. "Draw off 
 all but a handful of your men and give me a knife 
 or an ax, and you'll find the kind of a trail I will 
 leave for you." 
 
 Gauche lifted his ax as if to strike with the flat 
 of it, encountered Bridger's blazing eyes and 
 knew if he struck he must kill. As that did not 
 meet with his purpose he put the ax aside and 
 briefly said : 
 
292 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "I open a new trade. I need you/' 
 
 "Go on," said Bridger, now sensing what was 
 coming. 
 
 "You live among white folks, many sleeps 
 down the long river. You have big lodges filled 
 with goods. You will go with me to my camp, 
 where I shall make a big feast for my war-medi- 
 cine. Then you will send a talking-paper down 
 the river by the young man. You will send for 
 a fire-canoe to come up here with many presents 
 for the Assiniboins." 
 
 "Your medicine must be foolish to make you 
 talk like this," sneered Bridger. "I am on my 
 way to the place-of-building-boats. I am Mc- 
 Kenzie's friend. He made me a big feast at the 
 fort last night. We sat up till the moon grew 
 tired, drinking from big bottles. 
 
 "McKenzie and his men are following after 
 me. Now I have lived in his lodge and eaten his 
 meat and drunk from his bottle. Let the Assini- 
 boins watch their steps carefully, or they will step 
 on a snake that bites and poisons." 
 
 Gauche concealed his concern at this bold 
 speech. Of all things he must not incur the dis- 
 pleasure of McKenzie. It was from Fort Union 
 that he obtained the all-necessary guns and pow- 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 293 
 
 der and ball and the dearly loved liquor. Adher- 
 ing to his original purpose of holding the moun- 
 tain man for a big ransom, he changed his bearing 
 to one of friendliness. He said : 
 
 "There are bad men about here. If you are 
 a friend of the Great Chief at the fort you are a 
 friend of the Assiniboins. You shall go to the 
 place-of-building-boats. Our camp is near there. 
 We will go with you to see no bad breeds hurt 
 you." 
 
 "Nine men tried to hurt me in the cabin. 
 Those who have not crawled out are too sick to 
 move. To some, perhaps. Death has sent word, 
 *Come, he invites you.* They were not cunning 
 like Gauche. They went. I do not need your 
 help, Gauche, but you will need mine. Therefore 
 we will travel together." 
 
 Gauche was puzzled by these words and studied 
 Bridger suspiciously. 
 
 "We will ride to the place-of-building-boats 
 together like two brothers," he sullenly assented. 
 
 "Good. Give us our guns and bring our 
 horses. My young man and I are in no hurry 
 but you must ride fast or your sick man will die." 
 
 Gauche felt himself trembling. He stepped 
 back and moved about to hide his sudden fear. 
 
294 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "Why speak of a sick man? Where is he?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 "In your camp. You pitch your lodges to wait 
 until he gets well or dies. Your medicine is weak. 
 It let the Aricaras whip you. It can not make 
 your friend well." 
 
 The chief prided himself on being a magician 
 with the greatest of power. He had a nation of 
 credulous believers and few skeptics. As fast as 
 he found a skeptic he fed him poison. Having 
 devoted so much of his time and thoughts to sor- 
 cery and magic, it was natural that he should be 
 ensnared in his own black webs, and he began to 
 wish he had never seen this strange white man, 
 who mocked him before his warriors. 
 
 "The white man has a strong medicine?" he 
 muttered. 
 
 "Very strong. My young man here has a very 
 strong knife-medicine. Black Arrow of the 
 Crows offered him many ponies for it. But my 
 medicine takes his by the hand and leads it about 
 as you would lead a child." 
 
 "Then he shall lead my friend back to 
 strength. He is La Lance, one of my chiefs. 
 There are crooked tongues that will say my magic 
 killed him if he dies. 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 295 
 
 "There were cords through his bones and wolf- 
 hairs under his skin and bird-claws in his flesh. 
 With my medicine I took them all out and showed 
 them to him. But there is an evil spirit in him 
 my medicine can not reach. My warriors stand 
 about the lodge to shoot it when it comes out, but 
 my medicine can not drive it out." 
 
 Bridger turned and nodded lightly to Lander, 
 rapidly explaining : 
 
 "Chief has a sick Injun on his hands. Afraid 
 he's going to die an' that his reputation as a 
 poisoner will make other bands in the tribe think 
 he was murdered. That shows it ain't a cut or a 
 gunshot." Then to Gauche : 
 
 "Bring our horses and guns, and lead the way. 
 We are in no hurry. We will stop long enough 
 to look at the sick man. I am full up to my neck 
 with this talk." 
 
 The horses and weapons were brought up; and, 
 equipped once more and mounted, the white men 
 rode side by side with the Assiniboi'ns in front and 
 bringing up the rear. Lander anxiously mur- 
 mured : 
 
 "But you can't cure the sick man." 
 
 "White medicine is stronger'n red any time," 
 replied Bridger. "If it's something very simple 
 
296 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 I'll use some doctor's stuff in my saddle-bag". 
 I've toted it to the mountains an' back every trip. 
 My medicine would work all right on anything-, 
 but I never bother it for something that don't 
 'mount to much. An' it ain't awful keen to work 
 on an Injun, anyway. I've worked it on Crows, 
 as they're friends of mine, but I always was 
 afraid an Injun would make it grow weak. Jim 
 Baker's got crazy idees 'bout medicine — still, it's 
 all right not to take chances. 
 
 "A feast of b'iled berries mayn't do it any good, 
 but I reckon they wouldn't do it any harm. Jim 
 won't take no chances when it comes to his medi- 
 cine. I've know'd him to travel four hundred 
 miles just to git something he allowed his medi- 
 cine would relish. Between my medicine an' the 
 doctor's stuff I'll pull the Lance through or kill 
 him." 
 
 Gauche's camp consisted of some three hundred 
 warriors. Bridger shrewdly surmised that the 
 Aricaras must have had help from the Sioux 
 tribes to defeat so big- a band. When the chief 
 and his prisoners rode into camp there rose a 
 great commotion, and from the snatches of gibes 
 hurled at them Bridger managed to patch out 
 the truth. 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 297 
 
 Gauche had learned of Bridger's presence at 
 the fort and had determined to capture him and 
 hold him for a big ransom. In this way he would 
 in part make up for the spoils he had planned to 
 take from the Aricaras. The men in the camp on 
 seeing the two whites boldly taunted them with 
 being held for ransom, and Gauche heard it with 
 stolid face and glittering eyes. 
 
 Bridger halted in the middle of the camp and 
 said to Gauche : 
 
 *Tell your men we are here to cure a sick man 
 of a devil, and that afterward we are to be free to 
 go our way. Tell them that is the only ransom we 
 will pay. If the man dies his friends will say you 
 poisoned him. Then two, three bands will join 
 together against you. Perhaps your own people 
 will turn against you. If La Lance dies it will 
 cost you your life." 
 
 "If he dies you will be the cause, and you will 
 die," hissed Gauche. "But I will say what you 
 wish." 
 
 And lifting his powerful voice for quiet he 
 told his people how he had made a bargain with 
 the white men. If they cured La Lance they 
 were to go free. If they failed, his people could 
 kill them or hold them for ransom. 
 
298 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 This did not please the bulk of the warriors. 
 They cared nothing for La Lance, who came 
 from another band. He had not carried himself 
 so conspicuously as to win their admiration dur- 
 ing the Aricara campaign. He had not been 
 wounded. Either his fear had made him sick, or 
 old Gauche was slowly poisoning him to death. 
 They rather approved of the latter fate. To keep 
 secret from his captives the mutinous inclination 
 of some of his men Gauche dismissed all but six 
 of his companions and then led the way to a tent 
 at one side of the camp. 
 
 As they rode toward this Bridger opened a 
 saddle-bag and extracted a medicine-case and 
 tucked it under his shirt. As they dismounted 
 from their horses in front of the tent four war- 
 riors standing guard there discharged their guns 
 at the ground and one ran about clubbing his gun 
 as if striking at something. 
 
 Then one of the guards loudly and proudly 
 called out that the approach of the great master 
 had frightened the evil spirit from the sick man 
 and that they had shot and clubbed it to death as 
 it ran from under the tent. One said it was the 
 size of a river-rat. 
 
 Gauche received the compliment in silence and 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 299 
 
 seemed a bit loath to enter the tent. Bridger 
 crowded by him and stood looking down on La 
 Lance, who had three years to hve before being 
 dissected and eaten by the Big BelHes. Bridger 
 diagnosed his sickness as malarial fever and felt 
 much relieved. 
 
 Gauche now entered and displayed some cords 
 of rawhide, some strands of coarse hair, such as 
 the Indians plucked from between the buffalo's 
 horns for the making of horse-hobbles, and three 
 withered bird-claws. 
 
 **These were taken from the sick man's body 
 by my medicine," he modestly reminded. 
 
 Bridger gravely bowed his head and declared : 
 
 "Your magic is big. Your medicine is very 
 strong, for it drove out a devil. But it was only 
 a little devil and the big devil remains. My 
 medicine let me see the little devil when it ran 
 from under the tent. Will you try again, or shall 
 I use my medicine?" 
 
 La Lance began groaning. His eyes were 
 closed and he did not sense the presence of the 
 three men. Gauche hastily decided : 
 
 "My white brother shall try his medicine." 
 
 Bridger fumbled at his medicine-case and 
 bowed his head as if in deep thought. He tilted 
 
300 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 his head as if listening to ghost voices ; but in his 
 sidelong glance Lander beheld a twinkle in the 
 gray eyes and a twitching at the comers of the 
 firm mouth that told of hidden laughter. 
 
 Staring intently at Gauche, the mountain man 
 motioned for silence. Gauche and Lander stood 
 rigid. Only the moaning of the sick man and 
 the murmur of angry warriors outside the tent 
 intruded on the silence. With an abruptness that 
 caused the chief to step back nervously Bridger 
 hissed : 
 
 "My medicine tells me the sick man is troubled 
 by the Water Spirit. Your medicine is strong, 
 but it can not drive out the Water Spirit. Wait 
 — my medicine brings another talk to me." 
 
 He cocked his head and listened and nodded; 
 then triumphantly announced: 
 
 "Now I have i't. Send warriors along the 
 river bank toward Fort Union. Before they come 
 in sight of the fort they will find two keelboats 
 tied to the bank. The boats probably will be 
 hidden in the bull-berry bushes. They must look 
 very sharp. They must untie one of these boats 
 and take it up-river to the place-of-building-boats. 
 There they will find a broken boat. 
 
 "The Water Spirit says there is big medicine in 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 301 
 
 the broken boat but that it can not work until the 
 sick boat has the strong boat fastened to the sick 
 boat, then will my medicine work and drive out 
 the Water Spirit from the Lance/' 
 
 Gauche never dreamed of doubting this diag- 
 nosis and cure. His savage mind fed on the 
 things i't had created. It appealed to him as being 
 extremely logical that the Water Spirit should 
 grieve over the wounded boat and should torment 
 some Assiniboin warrior until an undamaged boat 
 was brought to keep company with the broken 
 one. He left the tent to send men after the hid- 
 den craft, and the moment the camp beheld him 
 shouts were raised. 
 
 *'What do they say?'* asked Lander. 
 
 Bridger produced a bottle of fever medicine 
 and forced several swallows down the sick man's 
 throat. 
 
 "That will give him a jolt, I reckon," he 
 grimly mused. "What are they saying? Oh, not 
 much of anything. Some say the Lance is sick 
 because he is a coward. Others say the tribe's 
 medicine is against his being with Gauche's band 
 and that the Aricaras would have been whipped 
 if he hadn't been along. The most of 'em don't 
 give a hang for the Lance — Ah." 
 
302 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "What?" 
 
 Bridger frowned, 
 
 "One of the head men is asking Gauche if we 
 are to be let go without paying a big price. He 
 says we do not belong to the fort ; that the Assini- 
 boins would be fools if they didn't make a profit 
 out of us. Now Gauche is talking but I can not 
 hear him well — Bufler V beaver! Hear 'em 
 now ! That means he's made 'em mad — that he's 
 told 'em we're to go without paying any ransom. 
 He's the boss an' his word is law — let 'em howl 
 all they want to. There's just one thing that'll 
 make him change his mind an* treat us like dirt" 
 
 "If we fail to cure this man/* said Lander. 
 
 "Not by a dem sight. If his warriors don't 
 find that keelboat. Talk to your medicine, boy, 
 an' git it to working. They just got to find 
 that boat" 
 
 He lifted a finger and turned to the sick man. 
 Gauche glided in, his dark face scowling. 
 
 "Some of my men talk like fools," he growled. 
 "Some of them will go hunting their uncles among 
 the spirits. They forget I am the Left Hand, 
 that I am Mina-Yougha the Knife-Holder and 
 Wakontonga the Great Medicine. It comes of 
 taking them to the white man's fort. 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 303 
 
 "The man McKenzie thinks to make any trade 
 by treating my warriors as if they were chiefs. 
 They forget I can make black medicine." 
 
 "Do they go to find the boat?" asked Bridger 
 anxiously. 
 
 "They go. My white brother's medicine must 
 have eyes Hke the eagle to see so fan He shall 
 give me the medicine that drives out the Water 
 Spirit and I will not ask for gifts from the canoe- 
 that-walks-on-the-water. When does the big 
 spirit leave the Lance ?" 
 
 Bridger glanced at the flushed face of the suf- 
 ferer and recalled cases he had treated among his 
 trappers. His answer must be a gamble at the 
 best, as he did not know how long it would 
 require for the men to find the boat and work it 
 up to the chantier^ But Gauche was waiting, his 
 small eyes demanding an immediate answer. 
 
 "When your young men come back and say the 
 boat is in its place the spirit will leave him," 
 Bridger calmly assured. 
 
 "Wait here. I will see a tent is made ready 
 for you," said the chief. This time he was gone 
 but a few minutes. They followed him to a tent 
 pitched within twoscore feet of the sick man's. 
 Motioning them to enter, he left them. 
 
304 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Inside was a kettle of water and some dried 
 buffalo-meat. Before the entrance was fuel and 
 two crotched sticks on which to hang the kettle. 
 Bridger measured out some medicine into a 
 wooden dish and diluted it with water and placed 
 it near the door. Then he lighted a fire and hung 
 the kettle. 
 
 "Going to try and cook that stuff?" asked Lan- 
 der in huge disgust, pointing to the dried meat. 
 
 "No, no. That's good just as it is," said 
 Bridger, catching up a strip and working his 
 strong, white teeth through it. "Doesn't smell 
 very bad, either." 
 
 "Ugh! Then why the hot water?" 
 
 "That sick cuss has fever an' chills. I've got 
 to bu'st it up during the night. I give him a 
 mighty strong dose — full strength. 'Nough to 
 make a horse sweat. Now I must git to him again 
 in 'bout two hours. I need lots of hot water. 
 See those devils scowl at us." 
 
 The last, as a band of warriors paraded by the 
 tent at a respectful distance and lowered blackly 
 at the white men. 
 
 "Never a Injun had more power over so many 
 men in this valley as Gauche has had over his 
 band," ruminated Bridger. "But the old cuss 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 305 
 
 has it right when he says he may lose his grip 
 because of the men getting to the fort. 
 
 "The A. F. C. makes a heap of 'em when they 
 bring in a good trade. They always start their 
 liquor trade at dark an' keep it up all night. Old 
 Gauche has a tin dipper which he never lets go 
 of, an' he rushes in an' out an' gits beastly drunk, 
 an' keeps so. When he's drunk his authority slips 
 a trifle. His men, being drunk, say an' do things 
 they wouldn't dast do before him when sober, an' 
 they ain't made to suffer. This has been going 
 on ever since the A. F. C. got active up here a 
 few years ago. 
 
 "Gauche's men are beginning to wonder if he's 
 much better'n they be. He's always held 'em in 
 check by his reputation as a medicine man, poi- 
 soner and worker in magic. But the first time he 
 led his band to Fort Union an' stopped outside to 
 vermilion an' dress up an' hear the cannon shot 
 off in his honor he was losing a bit of his power. 
 
 "Three years ago there wasn't a mian in his 
 band that would 'a' dared to give him any lip. 
 Now he's kept everlastingly at it to think up 
 games where he can run off some Blackfeet horses 
 an' lift some Sioux hair so's they'll stick to him 
 as a big chief. 
 
3o6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "His trip down-river give his standing an 
 awful jolt. They blame his medicine for the lick- 
 ing. He thought to make 'em forgit by corral- 
 ling us an' gittin'a big ransom, but the Lance 
 blocks that game. If the Lance dies the Lance's 
 band will blame him, an' say he poisoned the cuss. 
 He's just got to cure the Lance or have trouble. 
 With his own men gitting sassy he can't afford 
 to let that happen." 
 
 "If the Lance gets well he'll probably hold us 
 for ransom just the same," observed Lander. 
 
 "He'll have to be crowded awful hard before 
 he'd do that. First place, he'd be afraid of my 
 medicine. Second place, he knows he can't go 
 only 'bout so far before McKenzie would have to 
 call a halt. But if McKenzie Tarns 'bout the bea- 
 ver packs he won't call a halt till he's got his paws 
 on 'em. I'm going to git out of this camp to-mor- 
 rer if I have to take Gauche up in front of me." 
 
 Lander worried down some of the tough meat 
 while Bridger ate heartily. Groups of warriors 
 kept passing the tent and eying it malevolently. 
 Bridger ignored them but Lander shifted his knife 
 from boot to belt and would have felt more at 
 ease had Gauche been with them. The chief, 
 however, had disappeared. 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 307 
 
 As the darkness settled over the camp Bridger 
 commented on Gauche's absence and explained it 
 by saying: 
 
 "He's gone off alone somewheres to make new 
 medicine. No good comes of shifting your medi- 
 cines the way he does. Git a good one and stick 
 to it It may git lame when it meets a stronger 
 medicine ; but if it averages up well that's all you 
 can ask. 
 
 "Jim Baker swapped his medicine for a 
 spotted Cheyenne pony once. Pony bu'sted a leg 
 next day an' the Injun who'd took the medicine 
 sneaked in an' stole Jim's rifle. Just plumb fool- 
 ishness." 
 
 "But if he don't come back his men will get 
 rough," said Lander. 
 
 "Sure to. But listen to me; no matter what 
 they try^ you keep calm an' act like you didn't 
 know they was round. Time enough to make a 
 fight when you see me letting out." 
 
 By degrees the camp quieted down and Lander 
 believed they were to have a quiet night despite 
 the chiefs absence, when a long howl down by^ 
 the river bank caused him to start nervously. 
 They were sitting before their tent. As the out- 
 cry continued Bridger rose and entered the tent 
 
3o8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 and called Lander after him. Then he fixed the 
 flap in place. 
 
 "It's hot and stuffy/' complained Lander, feel- 
 ing about and locating a buffalo-robe and sitting 
 down. 
 
 "Just remember my orders. Don't show fight 
 till I give the word," quietly replied Bridger. 
 
 Now the noise by the river increased in volume. 
 Bridged informed : 
 
 "Some of the bucks have fetched liquor from 
 Fort Union." 
 
 The two sat and waited while the bedlam drew 
 nearer. Lander was puzzled in following the 
 course of the hideous chorus. It would sweep 
 toward them, then lessen in intensity, only to pass 
 to one side with renewed volume. Bridger 
 lighted his pipe and explained : 
 
 "They're feasting from lodge to lodge, giving 
 rum to each tent and asking the people to join 
 'em. They'll be here by 'n' by." 
 
 "And shall we wait?" 
 
 "Best thing to do. Fetch in some of the dry 
 wood. I'll make a fire an' open the smoke-hole. 
 Leave the flap back. We'll give 'em a chance to 
 see." 
 
 All this was bewildering to Lander, but if Jim 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 309 
 
 Bridger did not know how to handle the situation 
 no man in the mountains or in the Missouri Val- 
 ley did. So he obeyed and Bridger soon had a 
 small blaze burning inside the tent which brightly 
 illuminated the interior. The flap was fastened 
 wide open. Bridger then seated himself near the 
 opening and motioned for Lander to sit by his 
 side. 
 
 "Here they come," he warned. "Full of 
 A. F. C. liquor an' natural cussedness. Don't 
 pay any attention to 'em." 
 
 With a rush and an inferno of yells the dusky 
 band swept around the tent and howled fero- 
 ciously. Bridger smoked on placidly and between 
 puffs talked to Lander^ who sat with bowed head 
 as if listening intently. 
 
 Several bucks ran up and thrust their heads 
 through the opening but neither of the white men 
 seemed to see them. One of the intruders reached 
 in with his knife and slashed it within a few 
 inches of Bridger's head but the veteran gave no 
 heed to the threat. From the corner of his eye 
 Lander beheld a knife-blade slice through the 
 rear of the tent and nudged Bridger. 
 
 "Never mind little things like that," drawled 
 Bridger. "They've got quite a few things they'll 
 
3IO KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 try. They don't just dare to kill us, but if they 
 can make us show fight they'll dare anything." 
 
 Fascinated and with his heart galloping fu- 
 riously, Lander watched the knife. Now it was 
 reenforced by other knives and amid horrible 
 yelling the back of the tent was slit to ribbons. 
 Ferocious faces appeared in the openings and 
 fairly spat at them. One man, in a delirium of 
 rage, contented himself with thrusting his body 
 half-way into the tent and stabbing and hacking 
 the ground with his knife, all the time emitting 
 the most devilish shrieks. 
 
 ''Trying to scare us into stampeding," lazily 
 informed Bridger. "Now sit tight an' don't 
 budge a muscle. They won't shoot at us." 
 
 The warning was timely, else Lander would 
 have leaped to his feet to sell his life dearly. 
 Several bucks tlirust their guns through the tent 
 and discharged them into the fire, blowing coals 
 and ashes all about 
 
 "That's why I made a blaze/' Bridger cheer- 
 fully explained. "If it had been dark they'd 'a' 
 hit us.'' 
 
 As if acting on a prearranged signal the band 
 now rushed close to the front of the tent and 
 ripped off a hide in order to expose more fully 
 
'Now sit tight an' don't budge a muscle. 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 311 
 
 the prisonera With knives brandishing and guns 
 pointing they crouched low and howled in the 
 faces of the white men. Never by so much as a 
 quiver of an eyelash did Bridger give evidence of 
 knowing they were there. 
 
 Lander, by keeping his gaze lowered while he 
 traced patterns with his finger on the ground, 
 also managed to simulate entire indifference. 
 There came one more volley into the coals of the 
 fire, a final surging forward, a last crescendo of 
 inarticulate cries, then as one the visitors fled 
 back to the river bank and their cache of rum. 
 
 *'Thafs over," mused Bridger with a sigh of 
 relief, and now the sweat began dotting his fore- 
 head. 
 
 "Pawnees tried it on me a few years ago, but 
 they didn't have any rum, just pure ugly, an* 
 they didn't go as far as these fellows did. Fine 
 for the sick man! Reckon 111 slip in an' give 
 him a hot dose." 
 
 Not relishing to remain alone, Lander went 
 with him. With coals from their fire they 
 ignited a handful of dry twigs and by the light 
 of these Bridger held up the patient's head and 
 forced him to drink a dish of hot water, reen- 
 forced with medicine from the medicine-case. 
 
312 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 The Lance showed no improvement that Lan- 
 der could detect but Bridger nodded in approval : 
 
 "He's quit groaning. Ain't begun to sweat yet 
 but we'll fetch him before morning." 
 
 During the night Bridger visited his patient 
 several times to dose him with hot drinks. The 
 Lance continued to rest easy although his skin 
 remained hot and dry. 
 
 Near morning Gauche came to the white men's 
 tent badly spent. He said he had been far from 
 the river making medicine. 
 
 *T made two medicines/' he explained, watch- 
 ing Bridger furtively. "One was for a war-party 
 against the Blackfeet. I know where and when 
 forty lodges with the white man Berger will pass 
 down the river on the way to Fort Union. I shall 
 send a talk to McKenzie to keep inside his fort. 
 We do not want to hurt any of his people by 
 mistake. 
 
 "My medicine tells me that if I wait until the 
 Blackfeet have commenced drinking we can kill 
 them all and run off all their horses. Then will 
 the Assiniboins know my medicine is not sick 
 like an old man." 
 
 "Your other medicine?" demanded Bridger 
 suspiciously. 
 
MEDICINE FOR THE LANCE 313 
 
 "I made that to make the Lance strong again." 
 "Then that is why my medicine did not cure 
 him last night," sternly cried Bridger. "Burn 
 or throw away that last medicine, or I will let 
 the man die. Take the war-path and get a new 
 name by killing Blackfeet, but stop opening your 
 medicine-bag toward the Lance, or I will tell the 
 Indians of your nation that you killed the Lance." 
 "My medicine wanted to help," muttered 
 Gauche. "If it will not work with your medicine 
 I will bum it." 
 
 He rose and, bending over the fire, secretly 
 opened a skin pouch and reluctantly allowed the 
 contents to drop into the flames. The whites 
 caught the odor of burning feathers. Rising, 
 Gauche asked : 
 
 "Now, when will the Water Spirit leave him ?" 
 "Very soon. Some time before the sun goes 
 down," assured Bridger. 
 
Chapter XIII 
 
 PHINNY COMES AND GOES 
 
 T^HE inactivity was most distressing to 
 * Lander. He pictured Papa Clair arriving 
 with the packs. He saw men from the fort dis- 
 covering them and reporting the news to McKen- 
 zie. By this time Lander^s friendship for 
 Bridger was so partizan he would feel defeat as 
 keenly as would his patron. 
 
 **Why not give that Indian more medicine and 
 have it over with ?'' he asked of Bridger, who was 
 lounging outside their ruined tent, smoking and 
 watching the Assiniboins recovering from the 
 night's debauch. 
 
 'There's one big reason," Bridger simply 
 replied. "I've told Gauche that the Water Spirit 
 would quit the Lance when the keelboat was 
 back at the chantier. I've been shaving down on 
 the hot drinks till I could know the bucks have 
 Had time to find the boat an' take it up-river. I 
 
 314 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 315 
 
 want to hold back the cure till the boat's been 
 returned. 
 
 "IVe got to ding* it into Gauche's Injun head 
 that it was my medicine what did the work. If 
 he gits the notion he had a hand in it he might 
 think his medicine was so strong he could hold 
 us for ransom. He's tricky as a snake. 
 
 "This waiting business would fret me all up if 
 I let it, but I believe in my luck. This band done 
 its worst when it fooled round our tent last night. 
 They won't try to stop our going less Gauche 
 tells 'em to. They're sick from the rum an' have 
 lost lots of interest in lots of things. Funny that 
 McKenzie's liquor should help us out of this 
 scrape." 
 
 One of the leading warriors approached and 
 stared at the ruined tent and said : 
 
 "The white men had trouble in the night." 
 
 "No trouble," said Bridger. "Some boys made 
 a noise. That is all." 
 
 The man retired and passed the word that the 
 white men were very stout of heart. Bridget 
 visited the sick man^ The Lance had his eyes 
 open and his gaze was normal. Bridger placed 
 a hand on his head and felt the perspiration start- 
 ing at the roots of the coarse, thick hair. 
 
3i6 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 The Liance eyed him wonderingly when he 
 lifted him up and gave him a drink of water. To 
 be ministered to by a white man was a new 
 experience. 
 
 "Where is the Left Hand ?" he faintly asked. 
 
 "He makes war-medicine against the Black- 
 feet." 
 
 "He was making medicine against the sickness 
 in me when I went into the black sleep." 
 
 "His medicine was weak. He had to have the 
 white man's medicine to make you well. Before 
 sunset my medicine will drive the evil spirit from 
 you if you do as I say." 
 
 "It is good." 
 
 "You are not to speak nor open your eyes if 
 Gauche enters this tent. When I tell you that 
 you are well, then you can talk." 
 
 "It is good." 
 
 Bridger returned to Lander and found him 
 trying to make a midday meal out of com and 
 beans. The mountain man ate heartily of the 
 dried meat. Gauche was busy circulating among 
 his warriors in an effort to arouse their enthu- 
 siasm for a raid against the Blackfeet. He kept 
 repeating to them: 
 
 "I made medicine against the Blackfeet. I 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 317 
 
 (ireamed last night and saw much blood on the 
 Blackfeet. There was no blood on the Assini- 
 boins. I saw many signs of Blackfoot horses, 
 and all the trails led to the camp of the Left 
 Hand. Be ready with many arrows and your 
 bows. Let those who have guns save their 
 powder." 
 
 It was not until late afternoon that he came 
 to Bridger. There was a peculiar glitter in his 
 wicked little eyes, and for a moment Bridger 
 feared he had found some rum and was com- 
 mencing a drunk that might lead him into the 
 vilest treachery. It was excitement, however, 
 rather than liquor that had fired the chief. 
 
 Before speaking he passed into the sick man's 
 tent and for nearly a minute stared down on the 
 closed eyes of the Lance. So far as appearances 
 went the man might be dead. Coming back to 
 Bridger he said : 
 
 "The Lance lies very quiet. I could not see 
 that he breathed. My young men have come back 
 to say the boat is in its place up the river. I have 
 told my warriors to come here and see the white 
 man's medicine drive the Water Spirit from the 
 Lance. I hope the white man's medicine is ready 
 to work. The Lance looks like a dead man." 
 
3i8 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Bridger put his pipe in the hanger about his 
 neck, stretched his arms and drawled : 
 
 "The medicine is ready. But it must hear the 
 young men speak about the boat. It can not 
 hear you say it. Send for them/* 
 
 As he had expected Gauche acted as his own 
 messenger, there being none of his men at hand. 
 The moment he disappeared Bridger was galvan- 
 ized into action. He prepared more fever medi- 
 cine in hot water and took it to the Lance and 
 had him drink it. Then he covered him with 
 extra buffalo-robes. Hurrying back to Lander, 
 who was nervously awaiting the climax, he coolly 
 informed : 
 
 'T'll have the taller oozing out of him inside 
 of ten minutes." 
 
 "The chief thought he was dead." 
 
 "Playing 'possum. See that the rifles are 
 ready. Then try to smoke." 
 
 A confusion of voices ran through the tents. 
 Men began to appear in small bands and make 
 for the sick man's tent. Gauche had passed the 
 word that the Lance was dead and that the white 
 men proposed bringing him back to life. 
 
 Bridger stood with his back to the excited 
 svarriors. One of the headmen started to enter 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 319 
 
 the tent, but Bridger caught him t>y the arm and 
 hurled him back. The man's hand went to his 
 ax, but fell limp as Gauche called out : "Be afraid 
 of the man who brings the dead back to life !'' 
 
 Then the chief harangued his men. He 
 reminded them of how the white man's medicine 
 had discovered the Water Spirit in the Lance, 
 and he repeated Bridger's promise that the sick 
 should be strong once the white medicine heard 
 from the lips of the young men that the boat had 
 been returned to the place-of-building-boats. 
 And for good measure he recalled the numerous 
 instances of Assiniboin braves who had dared set 
 up opposition to their chief, dying of mysterious 
 sicknesses. 
 
 There was a deep silence after the speech, 
 finally broken by the appearance of two bucks, 
 who pushed their way through the crowd bruskly. 
 These were the spokesmen, and they had delayed 
 their arrival in order to extract the full dramatic 
 value from the scene. Halting before Bridger, 
 they haughtily announced the completion of their 
 errand. 
 
 Bridger turned his head and as if addressing 
 some invisible agency in the tent rapidly repeated 
 their words in English, then paused as if listen- 
 
320 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 ing. Drawing himself erect, he loudly called: 
 "The Water Spirit is now leaving the Lance. 
 Stay where you are and watch." 
 
 He lifted the flap behind him and entered the 
 oven-like atmosphere and kneeled beside the 
 Lance. The man was panting painfully and in 
 a reeking sweat from the fever medicine and 
 heavy robes. He gasped for water and Bridger 
 allowed him to drink his fill from a kettle. 
 
 "You are well," informed Bridger, throwing 
 aside the robes. "Stand up and show the Assini- 
 boins how the white man's medicine works." 
 
 Assisted by the mountain man the Lance man- 
 aged to gain his feet. With a hand under his 
 elbow to steady him he was guided to the open- 
 ing, Bridger directing in a low voice. 
 
 "You will tell them the fires no longer bum 
 inside you. You will tell them you are strong, 
 but very sleepy. Then you will return to your 
 robes and drink some soup and rest for a day. 
 To-morrow you will be strong and go and come 
 a man." 
 
 The Lance forgot Ke was weak' and famished. 
 Thoroughly believing a powerful medicine had 
 effected the cure, he felt himself a figure of mucK 
 importance. His shoulders squared and his eyes 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 321 
 
 grew steady as he flung back the flap of skin and 
 confronted the mass of warriors. Nor did his 
 voice fail him, but rang out in its usual volume 
 as he proclaimed: "The Lance has been dead. 
 He is alive. He was weak. Now he is strong. 
 There are no fires in his body. The white man's 
 medicine put them out. I go back to eat and 
 sleep. Then I will be ready to take the path again 
 against the enemies of the Assiniboins.'* 
 
 The Indians clapped their hands to their 
 mouths, their gesture to express amazement, as 
 they looked on one who, Gauche had said, was 
 dead. The Lance retreated, and as the flap fell, 
 shutting him in from the view of the warriors, 
 he fell into Bridger's arms. The mountain man 
 placed him on his robes and gave him more water. 
 Opening the top of the tent to create a draft, he 
 drew back the flap over the opening and hurried 
 to his tent. 
 
 The Assiniboins eyed him with much awe, their 
 hands clapping to their mouths. Verily his medi- 
 cine was mighty. If he would come and live with 
 the Assiniboins the nation would drive the Black- 
 feet beyond the mountains. They had seen him 
 take a man burned and parched like a fragment 
 of sun-scorched hide and overnight turn him out 
 
322 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 moist with sweat, ready to eat and sleep, and 
 eager to fight. 
 
 Addressing Gauche, who had followed him, 
 and speaking loudly for the benefit of all, Bridger 
 said : "Now we have cured your sick we will go. 
 Last night my medicine told me that you had 
 made a new medicine, one that was very strong 
 and would bring you many horses and Black- 
 feet scalps. Now we want our horses at once." 
 
 "If the white men will rest one sleep — " 
 Gauche began. 
 
 "Then the Lance would fall sick again. My 
 medicine says it must go," cut in Bridger. "Bring 
 our horses." 
 
 Gauche gave an order and the two animals 
 were produced. Taking their rifles, the white 
 men led their horses through the camp, nor did 
 they hear any voice demanding they be held for 
 ransom. Not until they were well beyond the 
 tents did they mount. Bridger rode rapidly for 
 the river and would have turned up-stream had 
 not the sound of music caused him to rein in and 
 stare, down the river-road in amazement. 
 
 "That ain't no Injun music !" he exclaimed. 
 
 "Drums, bells, violin and a clarionet," checked 
 off Lander, his eyes lighting. 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 323 
 
 "White men from the fort," muttered Bridger, 
 riding toward the music. 
 
 Soon they sighted them — a band of white men, 
 mounted and playing their instruments as they 
 rode. The music was most sweet in the ears of 
 the trappers, and for a moment Bridger forgot to 
 wonder at its coming. 
 
 "Look who rides behind!" softly cried out 
 Lander. 
 
 "I see 'em," murmured Bridger, watching the 
 figures of McKenzie and Phinny. "Remember 
 — not a sign or a word to Phinny that you sus- 
 pect him," warned Bridger. "The music ain't 
 for us. Must be for the Injuns." 
 
 In this surmise he was correct, for on sighting 
 him McKenzie showed surprise, then spurred 
 ahead, and jovially explained: 
 
 "A little treat for the Assiniboins. It tickles 
 old Gauche's fancy. We don't lose anything by 
 humoring him. When we get him we get all his 
 people." 
 
 "Mighty good notion," admitted Bridger. 
 
 Then with a little smile he reminded : "An' the 
 A. F. C. never goes after the Injuns. Just let's 
 'em come to the fort or stay away." 
 
 McKenzie scowled but instantly retorted: 
 
324 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 "This display isn't to fetch trade to Fort Union'. 
 It's to keep peace. I got word that Gauche plans 
 to attack a party of Blackfeet that's coming in 
 with Jacob Berger. I must stop it. I've worked 
 too hard to get the Blackfeet to come to me to 
 have it spoiled by that old reprobate's actions." 
 
 "Why if here isn't Phinny!" exclaimed Bridger 
 as Phinny now rode up. "Howdy, Phinny." 
 
 "We meet again, Malcom," called out Lander 
 cordially. 
 
 Phinny who had been watching them through' 
 half-closed lids, now wreathed his dark face with 
 smiles. 
 
 "Lord, Lander ! But wasn't I glad when Black 
 Arrow's band arrived at the Crow village and 
 said you had escaped from the Blackfeet and was 
 on your way to Fort Union. I'm awfully glad 
 to see you. 
 
 "And, Mr. Bridger, no hard feelings I hope 
 because I've hired Ferguson to work for us with 
 the Crows. He wanted the place. He felt it 
 was more steady than working for a company 
 that goes after beaver only." 
 
 "That's all right," assured Bridger. "I've got 
 plenty of men who'll go and make opposition to 
 him. The Crows think a heap of me. Don't 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 325 
 
 make much difference what man I send there. I 
 let Ferguson have it as he was begging for a job. 
 But as you say H. B. men are better fitted for the 
 A. F. C. post-trade than for going after beaver 
 for my company.'' 
 
 McKenzie ordered the musicians to go on to 
 the camp and hold the Indians from filling the 
 river-trail. Then he anxiously asked : 
 
 "What became of you two ? You started to get 
 the boat yesterday morning. ,We've been wor- 
 ried about you," 
 
 **The Deschamps gang and some of the Rems 
 corralled us yesterday morning and held us for 
 ransom. Old woman decoyed us to their cabin 
 by saying one of the men was sick an' needed 
 help. They're a bad mess." 
 
 McKenzie cursed in genuine rage. 
 
 "They've got to be wiped out," he fiercely 
 declared. "I've stood lots from the Deschamps 
 and Rem families. I've winked at quite a few 
 things as they were handy as interpreters. But 
 I'm through. I'm sorry Gardepied didn't make 
 good his threat and kill old Deschamps. My 
 men at the fort won't stand any more nonsense 
 from that crowd. Where are you going now ?" 
 
 "We stopped here last night to cure La Lance 
 
326 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 of a fever. We're now going up to select the 
 boat you said you'd sell us." 
 
 *1 see," mused McKenzie, his eyes twinkling. 
 
 And Phinny stared at the river as if greatly 
 interested in its muddy current. 
 
 "I did agree to sell you the best boat at the 
 chantier, didn't I ?" McKenzie continued. "Well, 
 I'll keep my word, although it may cramp my 
 plans. Hard to choose between friendship and 
 business, Mr. Bridger. Lucky I didn't promise 
 some of those down the river. Since you went 
 away I'm called on to use all I have." 
 
 "I don't want to hold you to a promise that 
 really fusses you," gravely said Bridger. "If 
 you want to be let off " 
 
 "No, no," hastily broke in McKenzie. "No 
 one shall say Kenneth McKenzie went back on 
 his word. I told you you could buy any boat up 
 there. I'll even go with you. Some of my men 
 might be there and not understand. They'd for- 
 bid your taking it. One boat was the bargain. 
 
 "Phinny, ride after the men and see that they 
 start for the fort after they've tickled up the 
 chief. Tell that old villain to take his men and 
 camp nearer the fort and that I'll fire the cannon 
 as a salute to his greatness. The scoundrel ! If I 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 327 
 
 can get him into the fort and drunk I'll stand 
 some show of getting* word to Berger to hold 
 the Blackfeet away until I can send men to make 
 the trade." 
 
 Lander did not dare glance at Bridger for fear 
 McKenzie would read the question burning in his 
 eyes. Had Phinny learned about the packs? 
 Was McKenzie's great need of boats due in part 
 to their getting hold of the forty packs ? Bridger 
 was putting the same queries to himself, although 
 his eyes revealed nothing. 
 
 "It's mighty good of you to go with us," 
 declared Bridger. "Only wish Phinny could 
 come along." 
 
 Phinny flashed his teeth in a smile, darted a 
 glance at his chief and regretted : 
 
 ^'Business comes first. See you soon at the 
 fort. I've got lots of St. Louis news to talk over 
 with you, Lander. Express brought up some let- 
 ters while I was at the Crow village." 
 
 There was a taunt in this although Phinny's 
 demeanor seemed to breathe good fellowship 
 only. Lander forced a smile and nodded. 
 Bridger understood his young friend's feelings 
 and, as if it were an afterthought, called to 
 Phinny : "I forgot to warn you, young man, that 
 
328 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 old Deschamps seems to think youVe tied np to 
 that wildcat girl of his. Look out for a knife 
 when you meet 'em." 
 
 The smile left Phinny's face. "Hang Des- 
 champs!" he muttered. 
 
 "With all my heart," agreed Bridger. 
 
 In putting the man on his guard Bridger had 
 punished him for plotting misery against Lander. 
 It was simple enough to imagine the nature of the 
 St. Louis gossip Phinny was to retail. Included 
 in it would be the favoritism of Hurry-Up 
 Parker for him, and the intimation that he was 
 to marry Miss Susette. 
 
 The moment he had spoken, however, Bridger 
 knew he had scored a second point. Phinny 
 would keep clear of the breeds. If he did not 
 already .know about the beaver packs it was a 
 most excellent move to discourage his intimacy 
 with the Deschamps. The breed, having failed to 
 secure the packs for himself, would be inclined to 
 sell his secret to Phinny or McKenzie. 
 
 Even now Papa Qair might be coming down 
 the Yellowstone. Could Phinny and the mixed- 
 bloods be kept apart for a few days — so much the 
 better for the Rocky Mountain Fur Company's 
 chances. Always provided, of course, that Phinny 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 329 
 
 had not learned the truth while at the Crow 
 village. 
 
 McKenzie was most affable as the three of 
 them galloped up the trail to the chantier. He 
 talked on a wide range of subjects, but always 
 edged back to Bridger's intended use of the keel- 
 boat. The mountain man stuck to his original 
 explanation of wishing to have an extra boat at 
 Fort Pierre. Evidently this did not satisfy 
 McKenzie. While a most businesslike arrange- 
 ment, it did not account for Bridger's haste in 
 securing the boat. It would have been more nat- 
 ural for Prevost to send word down to St. Louis 
 for another boat to be towed up by the packet. 
 
 But here was Bridger making a long journey 
 from the Sweetwater to the Missouri for the sole 
 purpose ostensibly of buying a keelboat. McKen- 
 zie refused to swallow it. On the other hand, 
 although he cudgeled his brain, he could not see 
 what use Bridger would have for the boat above 
 Fort Pierre. 
 
 Had he brought pack-animals the answer 
 would have been simple. But Phinny — only 
 Bridger could not be sure of this yet — had heard 
 nothing while among the Crows which would 
 tend to solve the problem. 
 
330 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 In fact he had been amazed on reaching the 
 fort to learn the two men were there ahead of 
 him. Bridger was shrewd enough to detect the 
 suspicions revolving back of McKenzie's sharp 
 eyes, and he was pleased to believe his secret was 
 not known. 
 
 "The boat-yard is right ahead/' said McKen- 
 zie as they came in view of cleared ground along 
 the river bank. 
 
 He pulled his horse down to a walk and smiled 
 in a peculiar fashion at the mountain man. 
 Bridger winked gravely at Lander, w^ho was 
 seized with a desire to laugh. McKenzie con- 
 tinued: "I'm sorry I made that ipromise, but I 
 always keep my word. Look them over and take 
 your pick. You must be satisfied with what is 
 here, as even hospitality and my warm desire to 
 please will not permit me to go an inch farther in 
 the matter. Loyalty to my employers draws the 
 line rather than my natural inclination." 
 
 This well-rounded sentiment was given with 
 much unction and McKenzie's long upper lip 
 w^s drawn down in sanctimonious regret that it 
 must be so. 
 
 A fringe of willows concealed the river-shore 
 until one had entered the clearing. Leaving 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 331 
 
 McKenzie and Lander, Bridger eagerly pressed 
 ahead and leaped from his horse. 
 
 **I had no business to allow my admiration for 
 Mr. Bridger to wring any promise from me/' 
 McKenzie said to Lander. "But he has a way of 
 getting what he wants. Phinny tells me you 
 were employed in the A. F. C. store in St. Louis. 
 You should have remained. Your merit would 
 have been rewarded." 
 
 "I was pitched out^ neck and crop," Lander 
 informed him. 
 
 "So, so? But there is a chance of your return- 
 ing — yes, I believe I am warranted in saying it, 
 even if it would sound better coming from one 
 of my superiors, either Mr. Pierre Chouteau, or 
 Gome of the others; I have some influence in the 
 St. Louis office. 
 
 **Or if you wish you can stay on here with me. 
 A clerk, say, at three hundred, to stay three years. 
 Next year I could give you a hundred more. 
 Another hundred the third year. We want young 
 men who work with the idea of becoming part- 
 ners in the company, who feel they are a part 
 of the organization." 
 
 "I'm following Mr. Bridger now," said Lan- 
 der. "If he joins the A. F. C. I should be pleased 
 
332 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 to come in with him. He's been mighty good 
 to me." 
 
 "Well, well. Every man must decide on 
 which side his bread is buttered. Mr. Bridger 
 seems perplexed over the boats." 
 
 "He's probably trying to make a choice," Lan- 
 der innocently suggested, his lips twitching. 
 
 "I hope he is not disappointed," mused 
 McKenzie, his face gravely sympathetic. 
 
 To relieve his fears Bridger called : "All right, 
 Mr. McKenzie. I'll take this one. Fact, there 
 ain't only one choice. T'other one seems to be 
 bu'sted." 
 
 "The other one — " began McKenzie. "To be 
 sure ; the other one is damaged. I had forgotten 
 that. And you find one that — that suits ?" 
 
 "It's all right," cheerily cried Bridger. "Come 
 down and look it over. I can't see anything 
 wrong 'bout it." 
 
 Much puzzled and deeply disturbed at the unex- 
 pected presence of two boats, McKenzie cantered 
 into the clearing and rode his horse down to the 
 shelving bank. To his dismay he beheld one of 
 his best keelboats. It was one of the two he had 
 ordered his men surreptitiously to remove. But 
 here it was — fast beside the broken boat. 
 
PHINNY COMES AND GOES 333 
 
 "Yes, it seems to be all right," he mumbled, 
 mopping" his forehead with a gay silk handker- 
 chief. "Seems to be all right." 
 
 And in his heart he cursed the blunderers. 
 "I'll send some of my men up to fetch it down 
 for you," he added. 
 
 "I'd never forgive myself if I took any more 
 advantage of your neighborly kindness," earn- 
 estly declared Bridger. "Lander 'n' me will work 
 it down. I'll give you the order at the fort." 
 
 "Come, come^ Mr. Bridger. Never do work 
 you don't need to. It's a bad example for the 
 engages and Indians," McKenzie protested with 
 some asperity. "And you have your horses to 
 take care of." 
 
 "Here comes one of your musicians, riding like 
 the thunder !" exclaimed Lander, recognizing the 
 drummer. 
 
 The horseman came up at a gallop, and, yank- 
 ing his blown mount to its haunches, excitedly 
 cried out: "Th' Deschamps gang has murdered 
 Mr. Phinny. One of Gauche's men found him 
 stabbed to death half a mile from th' Assiniboin 
 camp. Th' Injun read th' trail an' says he found 
 tracks of a Injun woman's moccasins." 
 
 While McKenzie remained speechless with 
 
334 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 horror at the news Bridger yelped out: "What 
 sort of a knife was used?" 
 
 ''Dirk." 
 
 "Then th' squaw done it — old Deschamps' 
 wildcat girl. She tried to stick a dirk into me. 
 The old man said Phinny had promised to keep 
 her as his woman. She probably thought he was 
 going back on his bargain." 
 
 "This is terrible!" groaned McKenzie. "I 
 must ride back at once." 
 
 As he reined his horse into the trail Bridger 
 ran up to the messenger and said : 
 
 "Your nag's blowed. Ride one of our horses 
 to the fort, leadin' t'other two." 
 
 "Yes, bring the animals along," wearily mum- 
 bled McKenzie as he rode down the trail. 
 
 Bridger piled into the keelboat and beckoned 
 Lander to follow him. Then he warned : 
 
 "Now, young feller, you're going to see some 
 real boating. It's twenty-five miles, an' keelboats 
 ain't s'posed to run at night except when there's 
 a good moon. But we're going through — bent 
 for breakfast. It'll be darker'n the inside of a 
 beaver. We're going to pass the fort in the dark 
 an' make the Yallerstone without being spotted. 
 Now grab one of them poles an' hump yourself." 
 
Chapter XIV 
 
 BEAVER ! BEAVER ! 
 
 nf^HE boat was fifty feet long- and twelve feet 
 * wide, an awkward craft for two men to 
 navigate even in daylight. With night blotting 
 out the banks and concealing snags and bars it 
 seemed to Lander to be an impossible task. Yet 
 by the time McKenzie was galloping down the 
 river-road to investigate the murder of Phinny 
 the mountain man and his younger assistant had 
 pushed the boat into mid-stream. Motioning 
 Lander to take a position on the starboard run- 
 way — passe (want — of cleats, Bridger gave him 
 a long, knobbed pole, and standing opposite him 
 commanded in mimicry of Etienne Prevost: 
 
 ''A has les perches!" 
 
 Down went the poles and the two men began 
 pushing the boat from under their feet; Bridger 
 holding his efforts down to a level with those of 
 his inexperienced companion. So long as they 
 
 335 
 
336 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 exerted an identical pressure the boat held a true 
 course. With experienced river men at the poles 
 there was no need of a man at the tiller. Strive 
 as he would, however, the mountain man out- 
 pushed his employee, and the first time down the 
 passe avant he was compelled to seize the long 
 tiller to avoid running ashore. 
 
 "Three hours of some sort of light," he mused 
 as they straightened out once more. "We ought 
 to make the bulk of the distance in that time, bar- 
 ring accidents. I don't want to reach the fort till 
 it's good and dark. Now let's see if I can't keep 
 even with you." 
 
 A little practise on the part of both, one striv- 
 ing to increase his motive power, the other hold- 
 ing himself in check, soon enabled them to keep 
 to mid-channel. Time was lost at the bends as 
 Bridger was compelled to take the tiller and 
 leave the current to do the work. 
 
 Twice they ran on to bars, but as the boat was 
 empty they were soon afloat. Almost all the 
 snags were well inshore on either hand — carried 
 and hung up there by high water. As the night 
 shut in and the banks became blurred it was diffi- 
 cult to determine where the shadows ended and 
 the willow and cottonwood growths began. 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 337 
 
 ''It's mostly luck from now on," murmured 
 Bridger as the outstretched claw of a snag rasped 
 against the boat. "You keep in the bow to push 
 us off. We'll let the current do the work." 
 
 The hour was now close to midnight and they 
 would be passing the fort very soon. 
 
 Lander completely lost all sense of direction. 
 He was adrift on a limitless sea. There was no 
 longer any such things as shores. Only the sub- 
 dued call of a voice on the left bank dispelled this 
 illusion of infinite space. 
 
 Bridger at the tiller softly signaled for him to 
 remain quiet. Lander crawled back and found 
 his patron lying on top of the cargo-bOx. 
 
 "See or hear anything?" came the voice, sound- 
 ing very close. 
 
 "Too foggy. They must have hung up till 
 mornin'. Ye done gone an' let th' fire go out. 
 Yer fire, much as it is mine. Stop yappin' an' 
 help git it started ag'in." 
 
 Bridger chuckled and whispered. 
 
 "McKenzie has men out to watch for us. He's 
 thought up some game to take the boat back. 
 That dark smooch up there is Union." 
 
 Lander rubbed his eyes but was unable to 
 locate the "smooch." No lights were burning 
 
338 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 in or near the fort, and only a mountain man's 
 vision could make out the parallelogram of stock- 
 ade and buildings. 
 
 'Then we've got by," Lander exulted under 
 his breath. 
 
 "By the fort," dryly agreed Bridger, "but we 
 ain't by Kenneth McKenzie yet. We've got to 
 round the Point before we can hit the Yaller- 
 stone. We'll be there mighty soon now. That's 
 the danger place." 
 
 The Point was the narrow and thumb-shaped 
 stretch of land formed by the river's eccentric 
 course in running south to receive the Yellow- 
 stone and then doubling back to the north and 
 east. As they neared the Point the channel nar- 
 rowed; and, as Bridger had expected, guards 
 were stationed there. Obviously McKenzie was 
 determined to get the boat back. 
 
 "Git a light," growled a voice. "Why'n sin 
 don't ye git that fire started ?" 
 
 "Wal, gimme time/' was the snarling 
 rejoinder. 
 
 Bridger closed a hand on Lander's wrist and 
 softly whispered : 
 
 "We must git by before they start their fire." 
 
 The boat glided on. The men on the bank 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 339 
 
 seemed to be within jumping" distance. One of 
 them tested his memory by repeating: 
 
 " *Mr. McKenzie's mighty sorry but he must 
 have th' boat to take Mr. Phinny's dead body 
 down-river/ " 
 
 " *A11 t'other boats bein' needed for company 
 work !' " sullenly completed the second voice. 
 
 "Then we're to say that if he ain't in too much 
 of a hurry he can have a boat arter th' rush is 
 over. Mebbe in a week or ten days. I reckon I 
 can tote that talk to th' Three Forks o' th' Mis- 
 souri an' fetch it back an' never lose a word." 
 
 "Shet yer trap an' open yer peepers. We'll 
 soon be able to see things." 
 
 This as a tiny spiral of flame ran up a mass of 
 sun-dried debris. 
 
 Lander held his breath. He could make out 
 the forms of two men armed with rifles, as they 
 passed between him and the growing fire. The 
 blaze as yet was scarcely under way. Bridger 
 sighed in deep content and murmured: 
 
 "They'll be looking up-stream. By the time 
 the fire gits to burning at a good lick they can 
 look up or down an' be cussed, so far as we care. 
 'Nother three minutes an' we'll be nosing into the 
 Yallerstone." 
 
340 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 !A!s if suddenly desirous of serving Kenneth 
 McKenzie the fire flared up and burned a broad 
 patch across the river. Lander believed they 
 would be discovered and crouched low to escape a 
 bullet. But although the radius of the light zone 
 rapidly increased it did not catch up with the 
 receding boat ; and then again the watchers were 
 staring up-stream. The keelboat was again in 
 darkness although the fire was visible — a red 
 hole through a black blanket. 
 
 "We must do some poling/' said Bridger. 
 "Here's the Yallerstone." 
 
 "Where?" blankly asked Lander, unable to see 
 anything once he removed his gaze from the fire. 
 
 "Can't you feel the current pushing us to the 
 left? Work g-ently. Sound carries like sin on 
 the water." 
 
 Lander worked with great caution, but with 
 no intelligence. He did what his patron com- 
 manded, but he did it blindly. If not for occa- 
 sional backward glances at the fire he would have 
 believed the boat was going about in circles. 
 Then something snatched the fire from sight, and 
 Bridger was announcing: 
 
 "We've done it. We're in the Yallerstone now. 
 Timber on this south bank hides the fire from 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 341 
 
 us. A little ahead is a bend. After we make that 
 we'll hide up an' camp, an', as Etienne says, 
 'fumer la pipe.' " 
 
 Now the work was more strenuous as they 
 were fighting against the current. Again the 
 task became purposeless so far as Lander could 
 observe. It consisted of nosing ashore and back- 
 ing out, of blundering on to bars and snags and 
 working clear. At last he was driven to ask : 
 
 "Do you know where you want to go and how 
 near you are to arriving, Mr. Bridger?" 
 
 "We're already there," assured Bridger. 
 "Work her dead ahead." 
 
 Lander stood in the stern, pushing with all his 
 strength. He heard the rustling of branches in 
 the bow and finally felt a limb worrying his head. 
 
 "Now it's ficmer la pipe/' said Bridger. 
 
 Lander reached out with his pole and found 
 it rested on the river bank. 
 
 "I reckon I could jump ashore," he said. 
 
 "Reckon so, if you didn't fall in. Better 
 stretch out on the cargo-box an' git a few feet of 
 sleep." 
 
 Both were asleep when the sun came up, but 
 were soon awake and on the bank. The river was 
 empty. They were above the bend and snugly 
 
342 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 concealed under a rank spread of willow boughs. 
 For a considerable distance the course of the river 
 could be traced due south, and nowhere along its 
 lonely reaches w^as there any sign of the 
 bull-boats. Lander grew worried. Bridger was 
 grave but lost none of his composure. He dozed, 
 stood watch, and ate dried meat and never be- 
 trayed any impatience. Yet when in the early 
 afternoon he detected a moving dot far up the 
 river his gray eyes flashed and he put up his pipe. 
 
 "Some Indians from the Crow village coming 
 to visit Fort Union," suggested Lander in a low 
 whisper, as if the newcomer were well within 
 hearing. 
 
 "White man," muttered Bridger. "Tell by the 
 way he paddles. Not very good at the paddle, 
 but must have been some time. Probably he's old 
 an' has been away from it." 
 
 "Papa Clair?" exclaimed Lander, unable to 
 make out anything except a tiny shape moving 
 toward them with the current. 
 
 Bridger made no reply for half a minute, then 
 slowly informed the other: 
 
 "Yes, It's Clair. He's taking It easy, thank 
 the lord ! Packs must be safe, or he wouldn't be 
 so perky an' yet so delib'rate." 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 343 
 
 Fascinated, Lander waited and the dot became 
 a canoe ; then almost before he knew it the canoe 
 leaped from the middle distance into the fore- 
 ground, and there was Papa Clair, white hair and 
 white mustaches and his knife in his belt. 
 
 "Good day, Papa Clair," softly called out 
 Bridger from behind the willow screen. 
 
 *' Bon jour, m'sieti/' quietly returned Papa 
 Clair, sending his canoe toward the hiding-place 
 and picking up a rifle. 
 
 "Bound to have a fight with me," saluted 
 Bridger, poking his head into view. "Where are 
 the bull-boats hid up?" 
 
 "M'sieu Bridger! It is good to see you. 
 Where is my young friend ? Ah — now I see you, 
 my friend. Then all is well with you. But name 
 of a pipe! Such a bother, the boats of the bull! 
 They are safe. Let that be your satisfy. But 
 w^hen we have done with them I will rip them to 
 the devil for being blind pigs and the sons of 
 pigs." 
 
 He passed under the drooping branches and 
 held his canoe against the boat and exchanged 
 handshakes. His trip down the Big Horn and 
 Yellowstone with the packs had been uneventful 
 except for the vicissitudes of snags and bars and 
 
344 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 the awkwardness of his craft. He had passed the 
 Crow village in the night and seen no Indians. 
 
 Five trappers had accompanied him. They had 
 arrived and gone into hiding early in the morn- 
 ing of this very day. Bridger in turn gave a 
 synopsis of his and Lander's adventures, and rap- 
 idly explained the necessity of shifting the cargo 
 and making down the Missouri that night. 
 
 "We must be well down-stream by to-morrow 
 morning," he concluded. "We will stay here till 
 dusk, then pole up to the packs. You go back an' 
 fetch a couple men to help pole. It must be done 
 in a rush. An' fetch along some grub. Lander 
 seems to have a delicate stomach." 
 
 "I go. The men are impatient to hunt along 
 the shore. One of them swore he would go and 
 I had to show him my pet knife to hold his inter- 
 ests to our little camp. God is good !" 
 
 With another handshake, especially warm to 
 Lander, he pushed from under the willows and 
 paddled up-stream. Bridger yawned and went 
 to sleep. Lander kept awake, nervously anticipat- 
 ing the night's work and feverishly crossing many 
 bridges of risks and disappointments. 
 
 Success meant seeing Susette. He pictured 
 Kenneth McKenzie as the great obstacle between 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 345 
 
 him and the home-going. He could not imagine 
 that gentleman remaining inactive. The failure 
 of the keelboat to arrive at the fort was sure to 
 cause all sorts of suspicions. The Indians would 
 be sent to scout the country for it. 
 
 The conversation of the men on guard at the 
 Point revealed that McKenzie was determined to 
 take the boat back and would urge an absurd 
 excuse in order to succeed. The distance between 
 Lander and the girl in St. Louis lengthened and 
 stretched out during the afternoon until it seemed 
 as if the whole world were between them. 
 
 Lander succeeded in dozing off only to be 
 aroused by the arrival of Papa Clair and two 
 trappers. They brought a huge piece of cooked 
 cow-meat and a bag of salt. Bridger joined Lan- 
 der in a ravenous attack on the food. As they ate 
 Papa Qair signaled for silence. He pointed 
 down-stream, and Bridger crept to his side and 
 beheld a canoe following the opposite bank. In 
 it were two men, one white, the other an Indian. 
 
 "McKenzie's clerk an' a Assiniboin," muttered 
 Bridger. "Sent to search the river, but they 
 seem to be half-hearted." 
 
 "Behold ! They grow weary, they turn back !" 
 
 "Saves us catching an' holding 'em till we can 
 
346 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 git away," said Bridger. "After they make the 
 bend we'll start for the bull-boats. No more 
 scouts will come up here now ; they're going back 
 to report." 
 
 The canoe dropped down-stream and quickly 
 disappeared around the bend. After waiting ten 
 or fifteen minutes Papa Clair's canoe was fast- 
 ened to the keelboat and the men quickly poled it 
 up-stream and into an eddy. 
 
 Bridger held council and selected two to make 
 the trip as far as Fort Pierre. The others were 
 directed to return to the Greene as soon as they 
 had worked the keelboat out of the Yellowstone 
 and into the Missouri. 
 
 "I'm going back to the fort to give a' order for 
 the boat an' sell the two horses," he explained. 
 "Papa Clair will be boss here. When it gits dark 
 you'll run down into the Missouri for 'bout a mile 
 an' a half where the big island is. Lay up there 
 till I come. I'm going there now in the canoe, an' 
 I shall hide the canoe on the bank. Papa Clair, 
 if I'm not there by midnight you're to strike for 
 Pierre, keeping all the men with you." 
 
 With a nod to Lander he stepped into the canoe 
 and with sturdy strokes sped down the river. 
 Striking into the Missouri, he crossed to the north 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 347 
 
 shore and held on until he came to the island, 
 abreast of which Fort William was to stand two 
 years later in brief opposition to Fort Union. 
 
 The channel between the island and the river 
 bank was narrow, and a few strokes of the paddle 
 sent the canoe ashore. Fort Union was a little 
 less than three miles away. Striking north, 
 Bridger made a wide detour until he was above 
 the fort and on the river. 
 
 It was now at the edge of dusk, and he knew 
 the keelboat would be descending the Yellowstone 
 within an hour. He hoped his presence at the 
 fort would concentrate and hold McKenzie's at- 
 tention to him and that the search for the keel- 
 boat would slow up. Almost as soon as he came 
 up the bank from the river and entered the river- 
 road he was quickly spied by one of the clerks. 
 The young man was astonished at seeing him, 
 and gasped : "Mr. Bridger! Why, we've been — 
 Why, Mr. Bridger! That is, Mr. McKenzie was 
 hoping you'd show up. Where's the boat ?" 
 
 "Ashore," sternly replied Bridger. "I've come 
 afoot to see your boss." 
 
 He walked on, exhibiting no desire for the 
 clerk's company; and the latter, glad to be free, 
 ran ahead to give the news to his irate employer. 
 
348 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 When Bridger passed through the gate he walked 
 with a slight limp, as if lame from travel. 
 
 McKenzie, on the southwest bastion balcony, 
 saw him approaching and hastened out to greet 
 him. His shrewd gaze took account of the limp 
 and the downcast expression on Bridger's face. 
 
 'The boat got ashore, the clerk tells me," said 
 McKenzie in a soothing voice. "Too bad. Too 
 bad. I wanted you to let my men fetch it down, 
 you know. Too much for two men to do alone 
 and in the night. Must have grounded quite a 
 ways up-stream." 
 
 He f rov/ned slightly, unable to understand how 
 his men had failed to find the boat after scouring 
 both sides of the river almost to the boat-yard. 
 
 "You couldn't have more'n got started." 
 
 "Quite a ways," sighed Bridger, lifting a leg 
 and tenderly feeling his ankle. "But I'm here to 
 give you an order on the Rocky Mountain Fur 
 Company for the boat an' to sell you the two 
 horses." 
 
 "Come inside," invited McKenzie, turning to 
 the bastion. "I want to talk with you. Do you 
 mind coming up to the balcony ? I've been watch- 
 ing for Jacob Berger. He and the Blackfeet 
 should be getting along before now. I'm afraid 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 349 
 
 of old Gauche. He wouldn't move his camp 
 down here. Promised he would, but he hasn't 
 showed up. I promised him twenty new guns 
 and ten kegs of liquor if he wouldn't have any 
 trouble with the Blackfeet until after they'd 
 fetched me their trade. Slippery old rascal ! 
 
 "But about the boat. I hate like the devil to 
 back out of a bargain, but I need that boat to take 
 Malcom Phinny's body down-river. He stands 
 high in St. Louis with the A. F. C. and with the 
 people of the city '* 
 
 "Bah!" broke in Bridger in huge disgust. 
 "You just stick that young devil up in a tree to dry 
 same's you would a' Injun an' send his carcass 
 down-river when your steamer comes along. He 
 betrayed my man Lander into the hands of the 
 Blackfeet ; he killed my man Porker. He an' old 
 Deschamps planned to murder Lander the min- 
 ute they I'amed he was at the rendezvous." 
 
 "I don't believe it!" 
 
 "Careful, Mr. McKenzie. Me, Jim Bridger, 
 says it. An' I don't accuse any man till I know. 
 Phinny was worse'n a' Injun. The A. F. C. don't 
 owe him any partic'lar attention." 
 
 "It's hard for me to believe it," corrected Mc- 
 Kenzie, his face flushing. In truth he never had 
 
3SO KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 had the slightest suspicion that Phinny was carry- 
 ing on any campaign of hate against Lander. 
 
 "Of course it's hard for you to beHeve it until 
 I say it's a fact, but it's true. Even if he didn't 
 take naturally to murdering, why such a hurry to 
 git his dead body down-river when you've already 
 told headquarters the steamboat will let you keep 
 live men up here an' pay 'em off in goods at the 
 reg'lar Injun-trade profit? 
 
 "Mr. McKenzie, I'm keeping the boat. The 
 bargain's made an' you'll stick to it." 
 
 "I'll stick to it when I know what you want 
 that boat for," retorted McKenzie. "I'm some- 
 thing more than a trader up here. I'm called the 
 King of the Missouri, perhaps you'll remember. 
 I'm not only responsible to the A. F. C. for what 
 goes on up here, but I'm also responsible to the 
 United States government." 
 
 "Was you responsible to the United States 
 government when you set up your distillery?" 
 asked Bridger with a grin. 
 
 "That was to conduct scientific experiments 
 with our natural fruits and berries," McKenzie 
 haughtily replied. "The government is perfectly 
 satisfied, and that matter is ended." 
 
 "An' the still is bu'sted up," added Bridger. 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 351 
 
 "Why, every one knows how Pierre Chouteau, 
 Jr., worked his head off in getting Senator Ben- 
 ton to fix it so the A. F. C. wouldn't lose its 
 license. It took every ounce of power an' influ- 
 ence Old Bullion had at that to straighten it out. 
 
 "Now youVe 'lowed by your words that I'm 
 doing something I hadn't oughter. I'm waiting 
 for you to take them words back." 
 
 McKenzie bit his lips, then smiled graciously 
 and declared : "Jim Bridger, I never accused you 
 of any wrong-doing. You're going to be one of 
 us some time. But as King of the Missouri I 
 must keep an eye on things." 
 
 "A King of the Missouri. I'm a King of the 
 Missouri too," said Bridger. "So is Jim Baker 
 an' Etienne Prevost an' Papa Clair an' a whole 
 herd of others. Now we'll make out an order for 
 that boat an' I'll sell you the two horses." 
 
 "I refuse to sell the boat," stiffly decided Mc- 
 Kenzie. "Whenever I find it I shall seize it ; and 
 I do not care to buy your horses." 
 
 "I don't give a hang 'bout the horses ; but the 
 boat's mine. If you won't take an order on the 
 Rocky Mountain Fur Company then I'll credit it 
 against what the A. F. C. owes me for the robes 
 I traded to Phinny. I'll trade my horses to old 
 
352 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Gauche. He thinks I'm prime medicine. Reckon 
 ril put a winter man with him. He'd do well." 
 
 "If you'll agree not to put a winter man in 
 with Gauche you can have the boat for four hun- 
 dred dollars and I'll take the horses," growled 
 McKenzie. 
 
 "You ain't losing a penny on that boat," sol- 
 emnly declared Bridger. "Boat prices have gone 
 up mighty smart. So's the price on horses. 
 We'll call the horses two hundred apiece. That 
 squares off the boat an' saves bookkeeping. Got 
 Deschamps yet?" 
 
 "No. My men are after Deschamps now. If 
 they'd been at hand you might have decided you 
 didn't want the boat. If Gardepied is with the 
 Blackfeet I'll send him after Deschamps." 
 
 "Here comes some one in a hurry. Probably 
 bringing word that they've found Deschamps," 
 said Bridger, pointing to a man riding furiously 
 toward the stockade gate from the river-road. 
 
 McKenzie quit the balcony and ran down the 
 stairs with Bridger close behind him. The new- 
 comer rode into the stockade as McKenzie ran 
 from the bastion. One glance and Bridger 
 dodged behind a group of clerks and edged to- 
 ward the gate. 
 
BEAVER! BEAVER! 353 
 
 "Kenneth McKenzie!" cried the horseman, 
 leaping from his animal and glaring wildly about. 
 
 "Yes, yes, Berger! Here I am. Mr. Bridger 
 and I were on the balcony and saw you coming." 
 
 "Bridger?" gasped Berger. "So he knew 
 enough to fetch the forty packs of beaver he got 
 from the Blackfeet to you 'stead of tryin' to git 
 'em down to St. Louis. It's a fine trade even if 
 ye do have to give some presents to the Black- 
 feet — to them what's left, anyway." 
 
 "Forty packs of beaver! ! That's the 
 
 answer to the keelboat!" yelled McKenzie. 
 "Where's Bridger? He was here a second ago. 
 Find him, you idiots ! Don't let him get away in 
 that A. F. C. keelboat!" 
 
 But by this time Bridger was through the gate 
 and running along the western stockade to make 
 the woods at the north. 
 
 "Forty packs of beaver, and the A. F. C. kindly 
 letting him have a boat to take them down-river !" 
 moaned McKenzie. 
 
 "There's something else to worry 'bout, Mr. 
 McKenzie," panted Berger, staggering to him 
 and clutching his arm. "I'm wounded an' can't 
 talk a whale of a lot. That cussed old p'isoner of 
 a Gauche had his men fire into th' Blackfoot 
 
354 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 lodges two hours ago. Killed a heap of warriors 
 an' got away with three hundred ponies. It ain't 
 no time to talk 'bout Bridger's beaver packs un- 
 less ye wanter lose th' Blackfoot trade." 
 
 While McKenzie was confronting this new 
 problem Bridger was making the best of the dusk 
 and the confusion in the fort to reach a point 
 where it would be safe to turn his course toward 
 the island. He assumed that all the hubbub inside 
 the stockade had resulted from McKenzie's dis- 
 covery of his plans. So he spared himself none 
 in racing to the concealed canoe. He believed the 
 search for him would be up the river, as he had 
 arrived from that direction. 
 
 An hour later he was hiding on the up-stream 
 tip of the island and answering a low signal out 
 on the water. Ten minutes passed and Papa 
 Clair was softly announcing: "We arrive, 
 M'sieu Bridger. Holy blue, but your medicine 
 was strong to let you go to the fort and return." 
 
 "All the men except two take this canoe an' 
 hustle back up the Yallerstone," cried Bridger. 
 "Berger's come with his Blackfeet an' they may 
 strike for home through the Crow country, an' 
 it's best for you men to have a big start of 'em. 
 An' keep humping. Now we'll travel." 
 
Chapter XV 
 
 SUSETTE IN THE GARDEK 
 
 ¥T WAS Lander*s second visit to the American 
 ^ Fur Company's office within two hours. He 
 had arrived that morning and had lost no time in 
 presenting the order, only to find Parker was not 
 down yet. He walked to the levee and watched 
 Etienne Prevost superintend the removal of the 
 beaver packs to the Washington Avenue store. 
 
 "Mr. Parker isn't here, and won't be here to- 
 day," the clerk informed him on this second call. 
 "He's sick. Say, Mr. Lander, the whole town's 
 talking about your beaver. Prevost said you was 
 to get ten thousand for yourself. Mr. Bridger 
 must be a mighty nice feller to work for." 
 
 "He's the best there ever was," fervently 
 declared Lander, thrilled to have even a clerk 
 "mister" him. 
 
 Incidentally the town's gossip about his ten- 
 thousand-dollar bonus was correct, although 
 
 355 
 
356 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Bridger could have claimed all for the Rocky 
 Mountain Fur Company after paying the Hudson 
 Bay Company its ten per cent., or four thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 "He told me back in the mountains he would 
 do right by me. He's done better than that. 
 After saving me from Indian torture he didn't 
 need to make me any present. If Mr. Bridger 
 wants me to skin a skunk I'm ready for the job. 
 I'll call to-morrow about the order " 
 
 "Hold on!" cried the clerk, grinning sheep- 
 ishly. "I got excited over your good luck — ^just 
 a plain fool, I am. I sent a boy to Mr. Parker 
 after your first visit. He sent back word for 
 you to bring the order to him. If it's all right 
 he'll O. K. it and you can put it in the bank." 
 
 "Why didn't you say so?" snapped Lander, 
 darting from the office and hurrying to the Pine 
 Street house. 
 
 His heart threatened to choke him as he 
 entered the yard and mounted the porch and 
 rang. His eyes were blurred and he felt faint as 
 the door slowly opened. He expected to behold 
 Susette. Instead it was a maid. 
 
 Without a word she motioned him to enter and 
 go into a room off the hall. Again his heart 
 
SUSETTE IN THE GARDEN 357 
 
 played him tricks, but on entering the room he 
 found only Parker. He was reclining in a chair 
 and was scowling villainously. 
 
 "Show me that order," Parker growled. 
 "Don't stand there like an idiot. Have you an 
 order on the A. F. C, or haven't you?" 
 
 Without a word Lander presented it. Parker 
 frowned over it, grunted several times, then 
 endorsed it and handed it back and demanded: 
 
 "Why didn't you bring it here at once when 
 you heard I was laid up? Loafing round town 
 and enjoying your reputation for being a moun- 
 tain man, eh? Pushing your smug face round 
 for people to admire while your boss' business 
 was sliding to the dogs." 
 
 "You forget I wasn't to come here till I was 
 asked," Lander answered, his face dismal with 
 disappointment. All the down-river day-dreams 
 were dead. His medicine was weak and foolish. 
 
 "What about your getting a big batch of 
 beaver?" sneered Parker. 
 
 "Jim Bridger pulled me and forty packs out of 
 a Blackfoot camp. I take no credit for that," he 
 wearily replied. 
 
 Then with a sudden flash of spirit: 
 
 "But I did help Mr. Bridger bring them from 
 
358 KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 Fort Union in a keelboat we got from Mr. Mc- 
 Kenzie. I am a little bit proud of that. Your 
 whole Upper Missouri outfit tried to stop us and 
 couldn't. Now I'll be going along.'' 
 
 "Stop, you idiot!" thundered Parker, and 
 Lander wheeled expecting to be attacked. "You 
 and your twopenny reputation! Want to get 
 back down-town and have folks point you out, eh ? 
 You a mountain man ! Why, you young pup — " 
 
 "That's enough," choked Lander. "I may 
 never be a mountain man, but I'm done standing 
 your abuse, sir." 
 
 "Then what'n the devil you hanging round 
 here for? Huh? Eh? Get out, you impudent 
 cub. Hi! Not that way. Out the back way, 
 same's the servants do." 
 
 Pale with passion, yet compelling himself to 
 remember it was a sick man and Susette's father. 
 Lander persisted in making for the front door. 
 Again Parker's voice called profanely after him 
 and added : 
 
 "The other way ! She's in the garden." 
 
 An hour passed before they began their return 
 to earth. 
 
 "Your father was so queer. I don't under- 
 
'SUSETTE IN THE GARDEN 359 
 
 stand it," said Lander. "I'm sure he sent me 
 here. He said you were here. But he talked to 
 me something — Well, never mind." 
 
 "I've been rather disagreeable to father since 
 you* went away," she cooed, snuggling closer. "I 
 wouldn't eat anything — when he was around. 
 Then that funny Etienne Prevost was up here 
 this morning and talked with him. Their swear- 
 ing was something terrible at first. 
 
 "Then father calmed down and let Prevost 
 deliver a message Mr. Bridger sent by him. The 
 message was all about you, and father must have 
 listened with both ears. He thinks Mr. Bridger 
 is awfully smart: 
 
 "But they were such horrible things about you 
 I couldn't believe a word, of course. Killing 
 people with knives ! As if my darling would ever 
 do that! But it was just the kind of stuff to 
 please father. My maid listened at the keyhole 
 like a little cat, and came and told me. Probably 
 she made most of it up. But such awful stories, 
 dearest! Still they pleased father, for I heard 
 him chuckling after Mr. Prevost had gone. 
 
 "When he saw you coming he told me to come 
 out here. I told him I was his daughter but that 
 I must and would see you, and he said it would 
 
36o KINGS OF THE MISSOURI 
 
 look better if you did the chasing. He hurt my 
 pride terribly. But I knew he would send you to 
 me and I felt better. And you are really and 
 truly my King of the Missouri !" 
 
 "No, no," cried Lander. "I'm hardly fit to 
 rank as a common soldier of the Missouri." 
 
 "A Prince of the Missouri, anyway — I'm par- 
 tial to princes. And I like the way you wear 
 your hair over your shoulders. Naughty ! Hold 
 still. It's my ribbon, you know. A prince should 
 feel very proud to wear his lady's ribbon. Now 
 you must come and let father see you in the new 
 ribbon .... Now I know you don't love me !" 
 
 THE END 
 

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