Chapter II (2)

As night was coming on we camped in company with these people. Next morning we crossed Truckey river and struck out in a south east direction, leaving the site where Virginia city now stands a little to our right going by the sink of the Carson River. Here we camped and laid over one day to give our horses a rest. Before we left here we filled our canteens with water. Bridger told me that for the next fifty miles it was the poorest watered country in the United States. Said he: "There is plenty of water, but it is so full of alkali it is not fit to drink; it is dangerous for both men and beasts."

Jim took the lead all day, and when we came to a little stream of water he would get down and taste the water while I held the horses to keep them from drinking. It was about four o'clock that afternoon before we found water that was fit to drink; here we camped for the night.

Jim said, "From this on we may look for Indians; we are now in the Ute country and tomorrow night we will be in the Apache country. Now we must avoid the large streams for the Apaches are almost always to be found near the large streams at this time of year. Their hunting season is about over now, and they go to the large streams to catch fish and for the benefit of a milder climate. If we keep on the high ridges and mountains away from the large streams we will have no trouble with the Indians and what is better for us we can get all the game we want without any exertion."

The next day we were traveling along on a high ridge in the south east corner of what is now the State of Nevada. We looked off to the south at a little valley that was perhaps a half a mile from us, and there we saw a grand sight. There must have been at least a hundred elk and amongst them two very large old bucks fighting. Their horns were something immense, and strange to say all the rest of the band stood still, watching the fight. At last Jim said, "Will, I believe I will break up that fight."

He jumped to the ground, raised his gun and fired. At the sound of the gun all of the band ran away except the two who were fighting. I laughed and said, "Jim, I thought you were going to stop that fight."

He replied, "Give me your gun, and I will stop it."

This time I handed him my gun, and he squatted down and took a rest on his knee and fired. At the crack of the gun one of the elks fell to his knees, but got up and ran for all that was in him, and that was the last we saw of the elk. I told Jim he had spoilt the fun, and we had got no meat out of it. He grinned and said, "Oh durn it that old elk was too old to eat any way."

We went on and camped at the head of a little stream that emptied into Green river. The sun was perhaps an hour high, when we went into camp. As soon as we had staked out our horses Jim said, "Now Will, I will get the supper, if you will go out and see if you can get some meat."

I answered, "That suits me to a T. Jim."

I took my gun and started for a little ridge. I had not gone over a hundred yards when I saw five deer coming directly towards me. Among them were two spring fawns. I dropped down at the root of a tree and waited until they came to within fifty yards of me; I then fired and broke one of the fawns' necks, and the rest of the flock came near running over me, and over Jim also. I picked up my fawn and went back to camp. Jim said, "I don't want you to go hunting anymore Will."

I said, "Why not?" He said, "If you do I shall have to stand guard over the camp to keep the deer from tramping every thing we have into the ground"; and he pointed to the tracks of the deer not ten feet from the fire. This convinced us that these deer had never heard the report of a gun before. We were now in the extreme south east end of Nevada, and I don't imagine a white man had ever been through that part of the country before. On this trip we traveled some twelve or fifteen hundred miles, and we never saw a white person the whole way, and not even the sign of one.

At this time when a little more than a half of a century has passed there are portions of this same country that could not be rode over from the fact that it is all fenced in and cultivated. If we had been told then that we would live to see railroads crossing every part of this country we would have thought the person insane to ever think of such a thing at a time when there was not a foot of rail-road as far west as Missouri.

We had broiled venison for supper that night, the first we had eaten for some time, and the reader may be sure we enjoyed it.

Next morning we pulled out of here quite early and crossed Green river just above the mouth of Blue River. We were now in the greatest game country I had ever seen then or ever have seen since. We traveled up this stream three days, and I do not think there was a half an hour at any one time that we were out of sight of game of some kind. There was the Bison which is a species of Buffalo, Elk, Deer, Black Bear, and Antelope. We crossed the main divide of the Rocky Mountains at the head of the Arkansas River. That night we camped within a few miles of what since has become the far-famed camp and now city of Leadville.

We were now out of the hostile Indian country, and so we did not have to be so cautious in traveling days or camping at night.

While we were traveling down the Arkansas river I saw a sight I had never seen before and never have since. Two Buck Deer locked fast together by their horns. I had been told of such things and have since, but that is the only time I ever saw it myself. We were very near them before we saw them. They were in a little open prairie. I called Jim's attention to them as soon as I saw them. He said, "I'll be gol durned if that ain't the second time I ever saw such a sight, and now we will have some fun out of them bucks."

We dismounted and walked up near them, and by the looks of the ground which was torn and tramped for quite a distance we decided that they had been in that condition quite a while. Jim said, "How in the plague, Will, are we going to get these critters apart? They are too plaguey poor to eat, so we don't want to kill them, and they will die if we leave them in this fix; what shall we do, Will?"

I thought a minute and said, "Can't we take our little ax and chop one of their horns off?"

He said, "I hadn't thought of that, but bring me the ax and I will try it."

I ran to the pack horse and got the ax. He said, "Now you go back to the horses; for if I get them loose they may want to fight us."

So I went to the horses and looked back to see what Jim was doing. He went up to them with the ax drawn ready to strike but it was quite a bit before they were quiet enough for him to get a good hit at them. At last he made a strike and down went one of the deer. Instead of striking the deer's horn he struck him right back of the horn and killed him instantly; when Jim saw what he had done he made another hit at the dead buck's horn and freed the live one, which ran thirty or forty yards and stopped and turned around and shook his head at us a half a dozen times and then he trotted away as if nothing had happened.

Jim laughed and said, "He never stopped to thank us, did he? Well he ain't much different from some people." I said, "Why, Jim he meant "thank you" when he shook his head at us; that is all the way he could say it, you know," to which he replied, "Well, I saved one of them any way."

Nothing occurred of interest from this time on until we reached our journey's end at Taos, New Mexico. Here we found Uncle Kit and his wife both enjoying good health and a warm welcome for his boy Willie, and his old friend Jim Bridger.

After supper that night we told Uncle Kit that we had traveled from the Sacramento river, California to Taos, New Mexico in thirty-three days, and that we never saw a hostile Indian on the trip, and neither had had any trouble of any kind to detain us a half an hour on the whole trip. He said, "That is a wonderful story to hear, when there are so many wild Indians in that part of the country. Now boys tell me what route you came."

We marked out the route by different streams and mountains. He looked at the map we had drawn and said, "I will venture to say there is not two men in all the country that could make that trip over that route and get through alive. I will say again, boys, it is some thing wonderful to think of, and you must have been protected by a higher power than your selves to get through in safety."

We staid with Uncle Kit a couple of weeks and rested up, and then we struck out for Bent's Fort to make up our crew to go to our trapping ground for our winter's work.

Uncle Kit accompanied us to Bent's Fort; and all the trappers were anxious to get in his employ from the fact that the report had gone out that the Sioux and the Utes were on the war path, and all the trappers knew that these two tribes were the strongest hostile tribes in the west, and when fifty miles from Bent's Fort we never knew that we were safe and the trappers all had confidence in Uncle Kit's judgment that he seldom made a mistake in locating his trapping ground, and further more he had more influence with the Indians than any other man in the country, so they worked rather for him than take chances with any one else.

The next morning after we reached Bent's Fort I heard Mr. Bent and Mr. Roubidoux talking with Carson in regard to the trappers. Mr. Bent said, "Carson, I wish you would take as many as you can handle, for they all have an Indian scare on them and are afraid to go out, and every one of them is indebted to us for board now; and we can not afford to support them if they loaf around here all winter," to which Carson replied, "I can handle five or six of them, and that is all I want, I can not afford to take men out in the mountains and board them all winter for nothing." After thinking a minute Carson asked, "How many of the men have their own traps and blankets?"

Mr. Roubidoux said, he thought nearly all of the trappers at the Fort had their own trapping outfits with them. Carson said he would think it over and see what he could do for them. That afternoon Carson and Bridger had a talk with regard to how many men they should take with them. Uncle Kit said, "We haven't horses enough to carry more than three or four besides us three." Bridger said, "That will not make any difference, if they want to go they can foot it from here to the head of South Platte as that's where we are going to trap this winter; and when they are through in the spring they can foot it back again. We have nine pack horses besides our saddle horses, and we can pack out to the trapping grounds, an outfit for five or six men besides our own all in good shape."

That afternoon Uncle Kit and Bridger made arrangements with six men to go with us to the head of South Platte to trap Beaver that winter. Carson and Bridger agreed to furnish them with flour, coffee, salt, and tobacco for which Carson and Bridger were to have half of the furs that each man caught, Carson and Bridger to pack the grub and every thing else out to the trapping ground and also to pack the furs and all their other things back to Bent's Fort in the Spring. After Carson and Bridger had selected the six men they wanted, it seemed as though all the trappers at the Fort wanted to go with them. Carson told them he had engaged all he could handle. The next two days we spent in getting ready to go to our trapping grounds. On the morning of the third day every thing in readiness we bid farewell to all the people at the Fort and struck out for the trapping grounds and our winter's work. The men that had to walk did not wait for us but started as soon as they had breakfast.

Uncle Kit told them where we would camp the first night. They got there before we did, and they had killed the fattest deer I ever saw and had killed a Cub Bear. They were skinning them when we got to camp. The deer was a spike buck and when he was skinned he was as white as a sheep from pure fat. The reader may be sure we were not long in unpacking and getting ready for supper; every one was tired and hungry for we had not had any thing to eat since morning. For my supper I roasted two of the cub's feet, and I have never enjoyed a meal since that tasted better. While we were eating Jim Bridger looked at me and said, "Will, you have the best of me tonight, but when we get to the Beaver grounds I'll have a Beaver's tail roasted for my supper and then I'll be even with you."

I never saw a band of men enjoy a meal more than those men did that night. In this climate people have better appetites than any climate I have ever been. I think the reason for this was the air was so pure and invigorating and it naturally required more food to sustain the body and keep it in good health, and at that time sickness was very rare in that part of the country. It would seem unreasonable to tell how much meat a man ate at one meal, especially when out on a trip like this when he was out in the open air all the time, night as well as day.

The third day after leaving this camp we struck the South Platte river, and now we had another change of meat, which was mountain sheep. This is in my opinion the best wild game that roams the forest.

We made an early camp that night and Uncle Kit said to Jim Bridger and me, "You two boys get the meat for supper and the rest of us will look after the horses." We picked up our guns and started up the river; we had not gone far when in looking up on a high bluff we saw a band of mountain sheep. Jim said, "Now if we can reach that little canyon," and he pointed to one just ahead of us, "without them fellows seeing us we will sure have something good for supper." This we succeeded in doing and then we crawled around until we were within fifty yards of our game. We selected a couple of spring lambs and fired and brought them both down. When the men at the camp heard the firing a couple of the men came running to help us bring our game to camp. We soon had it dressed and ready for cooking, and it was good and every one of the men ate as if they enjoyed it as much as I did. While we were eating supper Jim told us a story of his coming in contact with a panther that had just killed a sheep, and he said it was a miracle that it did not kill him. He was coming down a bluff on a little trail and as good luck had it he had his gun in his hand. The panther had the sheep behind a rock and as the panther sprang at him he fired and broke its neck.

"It was the luckiest shot I ever fired," said he, "for if I had not had my gun all ready to fire he would have torn me to pieces before I could have helped myself."

Uncle Kit said, "Well, Jim, you were in about as close a place as I got into once. I went out from my camp fire one night perhaps forty yards to a small tree. I didn't have any pistol or gun with me, I had nothing but my hunting knife to protect myself with when a half-grown panther sprang out of the tree on me and, maybe you think I didn't have a lively time there with him for a few minutes, but I finally got the best of him by cutting him almost to pieces. He tore my buck skin breeches and coat pretty near off me and left this scar on my arm before I finished him," and Carson pulled his sleeve up and showed us a scar that must have been torn almost to the bone.

Two days from this we reached the place where we made our headquarters for the winter. That night the men talked it over and made their plans how many should camp together. They agreed that there should be three in each camp as there were nine of us in all. That made the number even in each camp. Next morning they all put out leaving me to look out for the horses and things in general.

For the benefit of the reader I will explain how we arranged a camp where a number of men were associated together in trapping beaver. We built our camps about four miles apart which gave each camp two miles square to work on, and this was ample room, for this was a new field and Beaver was as thick as rats around a wharf.

While they were gone I took my gun and started out to take a little stroll around where the horses were feeding. I had gone but a short distance when I looked up. On a mountain, north of me I saw a band of elk with perhaps seventy five or a hundred in it, and they were coming directly towards me; I was satisfied in my mind that they were going to the river to get water. I dropped down behind a log and waited for them to come close to me. The nearest one was twenty yards from me when I fired. I shot at a two-year-old heifer and broke her neck. I then went back to camp to see if any of the men had come in as it was near noon. I thought some of them would be back and sure enough in a few minutes they all came together; I told them what I had done, and Uncle Kit said, "Jim and I will get dinner and the balance of you go and help Willie bring in his cow."

We found her in fine condition. We soon had her skinned and in camp, and we found dinner ready when we got back. After dinner Uncle Kit said, "Come boys let's pack up and move to our camp which is only about a half a mile from here, and tomorrow, while Jim and me are at work on our shanty, Willie can help you to move to your quarters, and you can be building your shanties, so we can get to work as soon as possible."

We gathered every thing together and moved it to the ground where we were going to make our winter quarters, and Uncle Kit and Jim selected the place to build our cabin, and the men all turned to and went to chopping the logs and putting up the cabin. By night the body of the cabin was almost up, but the reader must bear in mind that this was not a very large house. It was ten feet one way, and twelve the other, with a fire place built in one corner. They built the walls of the shack seven foot high and then covered it with small poles, covered the poles with fine bows and then there was from six to eight inches of dirt packed on them and the cracks were stuffed with mud. The door was split out of logs called puncheons and was fastened together with wooden pins, driven into holes, bored with an auger. This way of building a house to live in through the winter may seem strange to the readers who are accustomed to all the luxuries of the modern home of civilization; but we considered our cabin very good quarters, and we were very comfortable that winter.

The first morning after we were settled in our new home we commenced setting traps for Beaver. Jim Bridger was the lucky man of the whole outfit in catching Beaver all that winter. Each man had twelve traps which was called a string, and a number of times that winter Bridger had a beaver in every one of his traps in the morning. I had watched him set his traps many times and I tried to imitate him in every particular, but I never had the luck he had.

Uncle Kit told me a number of times that winter that it was a good trapper that made an average of catching five Beaver a day, during the trapping season. We were all very successful this winter. Beaver was very plentiful, as there had never been any trappers in this part of the country before, and besides that was an exceptional good winter for trapping. The winter was quite cold, but there was not much snow all winter for that country. We stayed here and trapped until the very last of March, and when we had the furs all baled and ready for packing we found we did not have horses enough to take them all out at one time, so Uncle Kit and Jim Bridger packed the seven horses and rode the other two and struck out for Bent's Fort, telling us they would come back as soon as they could make the trip; and to our surprise they were back on the tenth day.

We had everything ready for them to break up camp when they came back, and we had all we could carry the second time. All of the nine horses were packed, and we all had to walk to Bent's Fort.

After we left the Platte we took up a stream called Sand Creek which leads to the divide between the Platte and the Arkansas rivers. After we camped that night Carson said to the boys, "Now we have had a pretty good variety of meat this winter, but we haven't had any antelope, but we are in the greatest country for antelope in the west now. Can't one of you boys kill one tomorrow for supper? But I am sorry for Jim and Will for Jim can't get a Beaver's tail off of it, and there won't be any bear's foot for Will to eat."

Jim answered, "You needn't worry about Will and me, for we may make you sorry twice, for when we get at the Antelope there may not be enough for the balance of you."

After breakfast next morning two of the men struck ahead in order to get the antelope. Near the trail about ten o'clock we overtook them, and they had killed two nice young antelope. One said that if they had had ammunition enough with them they could have loaded the train with antelope. That day we saw a number of bands of antelope, and I venture to say there were as many as eight hundred or a thousand in each band.

At supper that night Jim Bridger and I convinced Uncle Kit that we had not lost our appetite, if we didn't have Beaver's tail and Bear's foot for supper.

The second day after leaving this camp we landed at Bent's Fort about the middle of the afternoon. That evening and all the next day Carson and Bridger were counting the pelts and paying off the men for the furs they had trapped during the winter. Each man had a mark of his own which he put on all his hides as he took them off the animal. I noticed one man always clipped the left ear; that was his mark. Having a private mark for each man saved a great deal of trouble and dispute when the time came to separate the furs and give each man his due.

I heard Carson and Bridger talking after they had settled with the men, and Bridger said, "We have done twice as well as I expected we would do the past winter."

Carson answered, "Jim, we had an extra good crew of men. Every man worked for all that was in him and when they earned a dollar for themselves they earned one for us. I am more than satisfied with our winter's work and what it brought us."

He then asked Jim and me what we intended to do that summer; Jim answered, "We are going back to Fort Kerney to pilot emigrants across to California, and it is time we were off now, for I believe by the first of May there will be lots of emigrants there, and we want to get there, and get the first train out, and if it is possible we are going to make two trips across the plains this season."