Chapter III: Preface: ix (1)

THE UNBROKEN WILD (1804) 1
From Lewis and Clark’s Journals

JIM BECKWOURTH’S NARRATIVE (1824) 15
From “Autobiography of James P. Beckwourth”

THE PATHFINDER: IN THE HIGH ROCKIES (1842), _By John C. Frémont_ 37
From Frémont’s Journal of the First Expedition

THE WILDERNESS HUNTER (1845), _By J. B. Ruxton_ 56
From “Adventures in Mexico and the Rocky Mountains”

AT FORT LARAMIE (1846), _By Francis Parkman_ 72
From “The Oregon Trail”

GOLD! GOLD! SUTTER’S FORT (1848-1849), _By Charles Pettigrew_ 86
From the _Caledonian_

A FRONTIER DUEL (1848), _By Emerson Hough_ 115
From “The Covered Wagon”

EL DORADO, _By Bayard Taylor_ 124
From “Eldorado”

FRÉMONT’S GREAT RIDE (1849), _By Frederick S. Dellenbaugh_ 158
From “Frémont and ’49”

THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP, _By Bret Harte_ 161
From “The Luck of Roaring Camp and Other Sketches”

THE CITY OF THE SAINTS, _By Sir Richard Burton_ 174
From “The City of the Saints and Across the Rocky
Mountains to California”

ON THE COMSTOCK (1860), _By J. Ross Browne_ 202
From “A Peep at Washoe” and “Washoe Revisited”

ALDER GULCH (1863), _By Nathaniel P. Langford_ 231
From “Vigilante Days and Ways”

CHEYENNES AND SIOUX (1867), _By General George A. Custer_ 245
From “My Life on the Plains”

THE PONY EXPRESS, _By Mark Twain_ 268
From “Roughing It”

SLADE, _By Mark Twain_ 270
From “Roughing It”

GENERAL SHERIDAN HUNTS THE BUFFALO, _By De B. R. Keim_ 284
From “On the Border with Sheridan’s Troopers”

AT TUCSON (1870), _By Capt. John G. Bourke_ 296
From “On the Border with Cook”

TOLD AT TRINIDAD (1879), _By A. A. Hayes, Jr._ 310
From “New Colorado and the Santa Fé Trail”

SPECIMEN JONES, _By Owen Wister_ 319
From “Red Men and White”

THE LAND OF THE STRADDLE-BUG--DAKOTA (1883), _By Hamlin Garland_ 343
From “The Moccasin Ranch”

OLD EPHRAIM THE GRIZZLY, _By Theodore Roosevelt_ 357
From “Hunting-Trips of a Ranchman”

THE VANISHED SCENE, _By Hal G. Evarts_ 378
From “The Passing of the Old West”

ILLUSTRATIONS

DR. STEELE, PRESIDENT OF THE GULCH, ACTED AS JUDGE _Frontispiece_

ONCE MORE THE TRAIN FACED THE DESERT PAGE 115

MAN AND HORSE BURST PAST OUR EXCITED FACES, AND GO
WINGING AWAY LIKE A BELATED FRAGMENT OF A STORM! “ 270

THE MILK-CANS CLASHED, AND JONES THOUGHT HE FELT
THE BOY’S STROKES WEAKENING “ 339

THE PIONEER WEST

THE UNBROKEN WILD

LEWIS AND CLARK

1804

Reprinted from Lewis and Clark’s Journals. July 22, 1804.

Our camp is by observation in latitude 41° 3′ 11″.[1] Immediately behind it is a plain about five miles wide, one half covered with wood, the other dry and elevated. The low grounds on the south near the junction of the two rivers are rich but subject to be overflowed. Farther up the banks are higher and opposite our camp the first hills approach the river, and are covered with timber such as oak, walnut and elm. The immediate country is watered by the Papillon (Butterfly) Creek, of about 18 yards wide and three miles from the Platte; on the north are high open plains and prairies and at nine miles from the Platte the Moscheto Creek and two or three small willow islands. We stayed here several days during which we dried our provisions, made new oars, and prepared our despatches and maps of the country we passed for the President of the United States to whom we intend to send them by a pirogue from this place. The hunters have found game scarce in this neighborhood; they have seen deer, turkeys and grouse; we have also an abundance of ripe grapes, and one of our men caught a white catfish, the eyes of which were small and its tail resembling that of a dolphin. The present season is that in which the Indians go out into the prairies to hunt the buffalo; but as we discovered some hunters’ tracks, and observed the plains on fire in the direction of their villages, we hoped that they might have returned to gather the green Indian corn, and therefore despatched two men to the Pawnee villages with a present of tobacco and an invitation to the chief to visit us. They returned in two days. Their first course was through an open prairie to the south. They then reached a small beautiful river called the Elkhorn or Corne de Ceri. (These natural features have brush names in some instances.) About 100 yards wide with clear water and a gravelly channel. It empties a little below the Pawnee village into the Platte which they crossed and came to the village, about forty-five miles from our camp. They found no Indians though there were fresh tracks of a small party. The Ottoes were once a powerful nation and live about 20 miles above the Platte on the south bank of the Missouri. Being reduced they migrated to the neighborhood of the Pawnees under whose protection they now live. Their village is on the south side of the Platte about 30 miles from its mouth; and their number is 200 including about 30 families of Missouri Indians who are incorporated with them.

Five leagues above them on the same side of the river, resides the nation of Pawnees. This people were among the most numerous of the Missouri Indians, but have been gradually broken and dispersed and even within the past ten years have undergone some sensible changes. They now consist of four bands; the first of about 500 men, to whom of late years have been added a second band called the Republican Pawnees from their having lived on the Republican branch of the River Kanzas--they amount to nearly 250 men. The third are the Pawnees Loups or Wolf Pawnees, who live on the Wolf fork of the Platte, about 90 miles from the principal village and number 280 men. The fourth band originally resided on the Kanzas and Arkansaw but in their wars with the Osages they were so often defeated that they at last retired to their present home on the Red River where they form a tribe of 400 men. All these tribes live in villages and subsist chiefly on corn; but during the intervals of farming rove the plains in quest of buffalo.

Beyond them on the river and westward of the Black Mountains are the Kaninaviesch consisting of about 400 men. They are supposed to have been originally Pawnees--but they have degenerated and now no longer live in villages but rove the plains. Still farther to the westward are several tribes who wander and hunt to the sources of the River Platte and thence to Rock Mountain. Of these tribes little is known more than the names and the numbers, as first the Straitan or Kite Indians, a small tribe of one hundred men. They have acquired the name of Kites from their flying; that is their being always on horseback; and the smallness of their numbers is to be attributed to their extreme ferocity; they are the most warlike of all the western Indians; they never yield in battle; they never spare their enemies; and the retaliation of this barbarity has almost extinguished the nation. Then come the Wetapahato and Kiowa tribes associated together and amounting to two hundred men; the Castahana of three hundred men, to which are to be added the Cataka, seventy-five men, and the Dotami. These wandering tribes are conjectured to be the remnants of the great Padouca nation who occupied the country between the upper parts of the River Platte and the River Kanzas. They were visited by Bourgemont in 1724, and then lived on the Kanzas River. The Seats which he described as their residences are now occupied by the Kanzas nation; and of the Padoucas there does not now exist even the name.

It being vital to the success of further progress to hold council with the Indians messengers were sent with presents and a few days afterwards: in the afternoon the party arrived with the Indians consisting of Little Thief and Big Horse, together with six other chiefs and a French interpreter. We met them under a shade and after they had finished a repast we supplied them we inquired into the origin of the late war between their tribe and the Mahas, which they related with great frankness. * * * The evening was closed by a dance; and the next day the chiefs and warriors being assembled at ten o’clock we explained the speech we had already sent from the Council Bluffs[2] and renewed its advices. They all replied in turn and the presents were then distributed. We gave large medals to Big Horse and Little Thief, and a small medal to a third chief. We also gave a kind of certificate or letter of acknowledgment to five of the warriors expressive of our favor and their good intentions. One of them dissatisfied returned us the certificate, but the chief fearful of our being offended begged it might be restored to him; this we declined and rebuked them severely for having in view mere traffic instead of peace with their neighbors. This displeased them at first, but at length all petitioned that it should be given to the warrior who came forward and made an apology. We then handed it to the chief to be given to the most worthy among them and he bestowed it on the same warrior whose name was Great Blue Eyes. After a more substantial present of small articles and tobacco the council was ended with a dram to the Indians. In the evening we exhibited different objects of curiosity and particularly the air-gun which gave them great surprise. Those people are almost naked, having no covering except a sort of breech cloth around the middle with a loose blanket or buffalo-robe painted, thrown over them. This delegation was from the Missouris and Ottoes who speak very nearly the same language. They all begged us to give them whiskey.

The next morning the Indians mounted their horses and received from us a canister of whiskey at parting. We then set sail and after passing two islands on the north came to one on that side under some bluffs. Here we had the misfortune to lose one of our sergeants Charles Floyd.[3] He was yesterday seized with a bilious colic, and all our care and attention could not save him. A little before his death he said to Captain Clark “I am going to leave you”; and he died with a composure which justified the high opinion we had formed of his firmness and good conduct. He was buried on the top of a bluff with the honors due to a brave soldier, and the place of his interment marked by a cedar post on which we put his name and the date of his death. We named this place after him and also a small river about a mile to the north where we encamped.

We shortly after passed the mouth of the great Sioux River--this river comes in from the north and is about one hundred and ten yards wide. M. Durion our Sioux interpreter says that it is navigable upwards of two hundred miles to the falls and even beyond them. That below the falls a creek falls in from the Eastward after passing through cliffs of red rock. Of this the Indians make their pipes: and the necessity of procuring them has introduced a sort of law of nations, by which the banks of the creek are sacred, so that even tribes at war meet at these quarries without hostility. Thus we find even among savages certain things held sacred which mitigate the rigours of their merciless warfare.

A few days following we had a violent storm of wind and rain in the evening and had to repair our pirogues the next day. At four o’clock Sergeant Pryor and his men came back with five chiefs of the Sioux and about seventy warriors and boys. Sergeant Pryor reported that on reaching their village twelve miles from our camp he was met by a party with a buffalo-robe on which they desired to carry their visitors: an honour which they declined informing the Indians that they were not the commanders of the party. As a mark of respect they were then presented with a fat dog, already cooked of which they partook heartily and found it well flavored. The camps of the Sioux are of a conical form covered with buffalo-robes painted with various figures and colours, with an aperture in the top for the smoke to pass through. The lodges contain from ten to fifteen persons and the interior arrangement is compact and handsome, each lodge having a place for cooking detached from it. The next day we prepared a speech and some presents and then sent for the chiefs and warriors whom we received under a large oak-tree near to which the flag of the United States was flying. Captain Lewis delivered the speech and we gave to the grand chief a flag, a medal, and a certificate, to which we added a chief’s coat; that is a richly-laced uniform of the United States Artillery Corps, and a cocked hat and red feather. A second chief and three inferior ones were given medals and a present of tobacco and articles of clothing. We then smoked the pipe of peace, and the chiefs retired to a bower formed of bushes by their young men, where they divided the presents among each other and ate and smoked and held a council on their answer to us to-morrow. The young people exercised their bows and arrows in shooting at marks for beads as prizes; and in the evening the whole party danced until a late hour. In the course of their amusement we threw among them some knives, tobacco, bells, tape and binding with which they were much pleased. Their musical instruments were the drum, and a sort of little bag made of buffalo-hide dressed white with small shot or pebbles in it and a bunch of hair tied to it for a handle. This produces a sort of rattling music with which the party was annoyed by four musicians during the council this morning.

* * * * *

These Indians are the Yanktons a tribe of the great nation of the Sioux. They are stout and well proportioned and have a certain air of dignity and boldness. They are very fond of decorations and use paint freely and porcupine quills and feathers. Some of them wear necklaces of brass chains three inches long and close strung. They have only a few fowling-pieces among them. What struck us most was an institution peculiar to them and to the Kite Indians--from whom it is copied we were told. This is an association of the bravest and most active young men who are bound to each other by attachment and secured by a vow never to retreat before danger or give way to their enemies. In war they go forward openly and without any effort at shelter. This determination became heroic--or ridiculous--a short time since when these young Yanktons were crossing the Missouri on the ice. A hole lay immediately in their course but the leader went straight ahead and was drowned. Others would have followed but were forcibly stopped by the rest of them. These young men sit and encamp and dance apart from the rest; their seats in council are superior to those even of the chiefs and their persons more respected. But their boldness diminishes their numbers; so that the band is now reduced to four warriors who were among our visitors.

* * * * *

Early in the morning of September 16th having reached a convenient spot on the south side of the river, we encamped just above a small creek which we called Corvus having killed an animal of that genus near it. Our camp is in a beautiful plain with timber thinly scattered for three-quarters of a mile, consisting chiefly of elm, cottonwood, some ash of an indifferent quality, and a considerable quantity of a small species of white oak. This tree seldom rises higher than thirty feet and branches very much,--the bark is rough, thick and of a light colour; the leaves small, deeply indented, and of a pale green; the cup which contains the acorn is fringed on the edges; the acorn itself which grows in great profusion is of an excellent flavor and has none of the roughness which most other acorns possess: they are now falling and have probably attracted the number of deer which we have seen at this place. The ground having been recently burned by the Indians is covered with young green grass and in the neighbourhood are great quantities of fine plums. We killed a few deer for the sake of their skins which we wanted to cover the pirogues, the meat being too poor for food. About a quarter of a mile behind our camp, at an elevation of twenty feet a plain extends parallel with the river for three miles. Here we saw a grove of plum trees loaded with fruit, now ripe and differing in nothing from those of the Atlantic States except that the tree is smaller and more thickly set. The ground of the plain is occupied by the burrows of multitudes of barking squirrels, who entice hither the wolves of a small kind, hawks and polecats. This plain is intersected nearly in its whole extent by deep ravines and steep irregular rising grounds of from one to two hundred feet. On ascending one of these we saw a second high level plain stretching to the south as far as the eye could reach. To the westward a high range of hills about twenty miles distant. All around the country had been recently burned and a young green grass about four inches high covered the ground which was enlivened by herds of antelopes and buffalo; the last of which were in such multitudes that we cannot exaggerate in saying that at a single glance we saw three thousand of them before us. Of all the animals we had seen the antelope seems to possess the most wonderful fleetness. Shy and timorous they generally repose only on the ridges which command a view of all the approaches of an enemy;--the acuteness of their sight distinguishes the most distant danger: the delicate sensibility of their smell defeats concealment; and when alarmed their rapid career seems more like the flight of birds than the movements of a quadruped. After many unsuccessful attempts Captain Lewis at last by winding around the ridges approached a party of seven which were on an eminence towards which the wind was unfortunately blowing. The only male of the party frequently encircled the summit of the hill as if to announce any danger to the females which formed a group at the top. Although they did not see Captain Lewis, the smell alarmed them and they fled when he was still at the distance of two hundred yards: he immediately ran to the spot where they had been; a ravine concealed him from them; but the next moment they appeared on a second ridge at a distance of three miles. He doubted whether they could be the same; but the number and the extreme rapidity with which they continued their course convinced him.

The following day we reached an island in the middle of the river nearly a mile in length and crossed with red cedar: at its extremity a small creek comes in from the north: we there met with some sand-bars and the wind being very high and ahead, we encamped having made only seven miles. In addition to the common deer which were in great abundance we saw goats, elk, buffalo, and the black-tailed deer; the large wolves too are very numerous, and have long hair with coarse fur of a light color. A small species of wolf about the size of a gray fox was also killed and proved to be the animal we had hitherto mistaken for a fox. There were also many porcupines, rabbits and barking squirrels in the neighbourhood.

In the morning we observed a man riding on horseback down towards the boat and we were much pleased to find that it was George Shannon, one of our party for whose safety we had been very uneasy. Our two horses having strayed from us on the 26th August he was sent to search for them. After he had found them he started to rejoin us, but seeing some other tracks which must have been those of Indians, and which he mistook for our own, he concluded that we were ahead, and had been for sixteen days following the bank of the river above us. During the first four days he exhausted his bullets, being obliged to subsist for twelve days on a few grapes, and a rabbit which he had killed by making use of a hard piece of stick for a ball. One of his horses gave out and was left behind; the other he kept as a last resource for food. Despairing of overtaking us, he was returning down the river in the hope of meeting some boat with Indians, and was on the point of killing his horse when he discovered us. September 25. The morning was fine and the wind continued from the southeast. We raised a flagstaff and an awning under which we assembled at twelve o’clock with all our party[4] parading under arms. The chiefs and warriors from the camp two miles up the river met us, to the number of fifty or sixty and after smoking we delivered them a speech, and gave the chiefs presents. We then invited them on board, and showed them the boat, the air-gun and such curiosities as we thought might amuse them. In this we succeeded too well for after giving them a quarter of a glass of whiskey, which they seemed to like very much, and sucked the bottle it was with difficulty we got rid of them. Captain Clark at last started for the shore with them in a pirogue with five of our own men; but it seems they had formed a design to stop us. No sooner had the party landed than three of the Indians seized the boat’s cable, and one of the soldiers of the chief put his arms around the mast--in token of possession. The second chief then said that we should not go on; that they had not received enough presents. Captain Clark told him that we were not squaws but warriors--that we could not be stopped from going on; that we were sent by our Great Father who could in a moment exterminate them. The chief replied he too had warriors and started to attack Captain Clark who immediately drew his sword, and signaled the men in the main boat to prepare for action.

The Indians surrounding him drew arrows and were just bending their bows when the swivel gun[5] was instantly trained on them--and twelve of our best men who had at once rowed over jumped ashore to help Captain Clark.

Those movements took them aback--the great chief ordered the young men away from our pirogue and they withdrew for council. Captain Clark went forward and offered his hand to the first and second chiefs but was refused. He retired and boarded the pirogue but had not got more than ten paces when both the chiefs and two of the warriors waded in after the boat and were taken on board.

September 26. Our conduct yesterday seemed to have inspired the Indians with fear of us, and as we wanted to be well with them we complied with their wish that their squaws and children also should see us and our boat--which would be a great curiosity to them.

We finally anchored on the south side of the river where a crowd of them were waiting for us. Captain Lewis went on shore and remained several hours: and finding their disposition friendly this time, we resolved to remain during the night to a dance which they were preparing for us. Captains Lewis and Clark who went on shore one after the other were met on landing by ten well-dressed young men who took them up in a robe highly decorated, and carried them to a large council-house, where they were placed on a dressed buffalo-skin by the side of the grand chief. The hall or council-room was in the shape of three-quarters of a circle, covered at the top and sides with skins well-dressed and sewed together. Under this shelter sat about seventy men forming a circle round the chief, before whom were placed a Spanish flag and the one we had given them yesterday. This left a vacant circle of about six feet diameter, in which the pipe of peace was raised on two forked sticks, about six or eight inches from the ground, and under it the down of the swan was scattered; a large fire in which they were cooking provisions burned near, and in the centre about four hundred pounds of excellent buffalo-meat as a present for us. As soon as we were seated an old man got up and after approving what we had done in our own defense, begged us to take pity on their unfortunate situation. The great chief rose after and made an harangue to the same effect; then with great solemnity he took some of the most delicate parts of the dog which was cooked for the festival and held it to the flag by way of sacrifice. This done he held up the pipe of peace, and first pointing it to the heavens, then to the four quarters of the globe and then to the earth, he made a short speech, lighted it and presented it to us. As we smoked in turn he harangued his people, and then the repast was served. It consisted of the dog which they had just been cooking, this being a great dish among the Sioux and used on all festivals; to which were added pemitigon, a dish made of buffalo-meat dried or jerked; pounded and mixed raw with grease and a kind of ground potato dressed like the preparation of Indian corn called hominy to which it is little inferior. Of all their luxuries, which were placed before us in platters with horn-spoons, we took the latter, but we could as yet partake but sparingly of the dog.

We ate and smoked for an hour when it became dark; everything was then cleared away for the dance, a large fire being made in the centre of the house, giving at once light and warmth to the ball-room. The orchestra was composed of about ten men, who played on a sort of tambourine formed of skin stretched across a hoop, and made a jingling noise with a long stick to which the hoofs of deer and goats were hung. The third instrument was a small skin bag with pebbles in it; these with five or six young men for the vocal part made up the band. The women then came forward highly decorated; some with poles in their hands on which were hung the scalps of their enemies; others with guns, spears or different trophies taken in war by their husbands or brothers. They arranged themselves in two columns and danced toward each other till they met in the center, when the rattles were shaken, and they all shouted and returned to do it over again. They have no step, but shuffle along the ground. The music is no more than a confusion of noises, pointed by hard or gentle blows on the buffalo-skin. The song is perfectly extemporaneous. In the pauses a man comes forward and recites in a low guttural some story or incident--martial or ludicrous--or as was the case this evening voluptuous and indecent. Sometimes they alternate, the orchestra first and then the women raise their voices in chorus making a music more agreeable, that is, less intolerable than the musicians. The men dance always separate from the women and about the same except they jump up and down instead of shuffling; in their war dances the recitations are always of a military cast.

In person these Tetons are rather ugly and ill-made--their legs and arms are too small, their cheek bones are high and their eyes projecting. The females are the handsomer. Both sexes appear cheerful and sprightly; but in our intercourse we discovered they were cunning and vicious. The men shave their heads except a small tuft on top which they only sacrifice on the death of a near relation. In full dress they fasten to this a hawk’s feather or calumet feather worked with porcupine quills. They paint the face and body with a mixture of grease and coal. The chief garment is a buffalo-robe dressed white and adorned with loose porcupine quills to make a jingling noise when they move--and painted with uncouth symbols. The leg from the hip to the ankle is covered by leggins of dressed antelope with two inch side-seams ornamented by tufts of hair from scalps won in war. Their winter moccasins are dressed buffalo-skin soled with thick elk-skin. On great occasions or in full dress the young men drag after them the entire skin of a polecat fixed to the heel of a moccasin. Another such skin serves as a tobacco-pouch tucked into the girdle. They smoke red willow bark either alone or mixed with tobacco when they have any. The pipe is of red clay, with an ash stem of three or four feet, highly ornamented with feathers, hair, and porcupine quills. The hair of the women grows long and is parted from the forehead across the head, at the back of which it is either collected into a kind of bag or hangs down over the shoulders.

They wear the same kind of moccasins and leggins as the men but the latter do not reach below the knee where they are met by a long loose shift of skins which reaches nearly to the ankles. This is fastened over the shoulders by a string, and has no sleeves, but a few pieces of the skin hang a short distance around the arms. Sometimes a girdle fastens this skin round the waist and over is thrown a robe like that worn by the men. They seem fond of dress. They have among them officers to keep the peace--like civilized peoples--whose distinguishing mark is a collection of two or three raven skins fastened to the girdle behind the back in such a way that the tails stick out horizontally from the body. On the head too is a raven skin split into two parts and tied so as to let the beak project from the forehead.

JIM BECKWOURTH’S NARRATIVE

1824

From “Autobiography of James P. Beckwourth.”

After we had rested we departed for Snake River, Idaho, making the Black Foot Buttes on our way, in order to pass through the buffalo region. The second day of our march, one of our men, while fishing, detected a party of Black Feet in the act of stealing our horses in the open day. But for the man, they would have succeeded in making off with a great number. The alarm was given, and we mounted and gave immediate chase. The Indians were forty-four in number, and on foot; therefore they became an easy prey. We ran them into a thicket of dry bush, which we surrounded, and then fired in several places. It was quite dry, and, there being a good breeze at the time, it burned like chaff. This driving the Indians out, as fast as they made their appearance we shot them with our rifles. Every one of them was killed; those who escaped our bullets were consumed in the fire; and as they were all more or less roasted, we took no scalps. None of our party were hurt, except one, who was wounded by one of our men.

On the third day we found buffalo, and killed great numbers of them by a “surround.” At this place we lost six horses, three of them belonging to myself, two to a Swiss, and one to Baptiste. Not relishing the idea of losing them (for they were splendid animals), and seeing no signs of Indians, I and the Swiss started along the back track in pursuit, with the understanding that we would rejoin our company at the Buttes. We followed them to the last place of rendezvous; their tracks were fresh and plain, but we could gain no sight of our horses. We then gave up the chase, and encamped in a thicket. In the morning we started to return, and had not proceeded far, when, hearing a noise in our rear, I looked round, and saw between two and three hundred Indians within a few hundred yards of us. They soon discovered us, and, from their not making immediate pursuit, I inferred that they mistook us for two of their own party. However, they soon gave chase. They being also on foot, I said to my companion, “Now we have as good a chance of escaping as they have of overtaking us.”

The Swiss (named Alexander) said, “It is of no use for me to try to get away: I cannot run; save yourself, and never mind me.”

“No,” I replied, “I will not leave you; run as fast as you can until you reach the creek; there you can secrete yourself, for they will pursue me.”

He followed my advice, and saved himself. I crossed the stream, and when I again appeared in sight of the Indians I was on the summit of a small hill two miles in advance. Giving a general yell, they came in pursuit of me. On I ran, not daring to indulge the hope that they would give up the chase, for some of the Indians are great runners, and would rather die than incur the ridicule of their brethren. On, on we tore; I to save my scalp, and my pursuers to win it. At length I reached the Buttes, where I had expected to find the camp, but, to my inconceivable horror and dismay, my comrades were not there. They had found no water on their route, and had proceeded to the river, forty-five miles distant.

My feelings at this disappointment transcended expression. A thousand ideas peopled my feverish brain at once. Home, friends, and my loved one presented themselves with one lightning-flash. The Indians were close at my heels; their bullets were whizzing past me; their yells sounded painfully in my ears; and I could almost feel the knife making a circuit round my skull. On I bounded, however, following the road which our whole company had made. I was scorching with thirst, having tasted neither sup nor bit since we commenced the race. Still on I went with the speed of an antelope. I kept safely in advance of the range of their bullets, when suddenly the glorious sight of the camp-smoke caught my eye. My companions perceived me at a mile from the camp, as well as my pursuers; and, mounting their horses to meet me, soon turned the tables on my pursuers. It was now the Indians’ turn to be chased. They must have suffered as badly with thirst as I did, and our men cut them off from the river. Night had begun to close in, under the protection of which the Indians escaped; our men returned with only five scalps. According to the closest calculation, I ran that day ninety-five miles.[6]

My heels thus deprived the rascally Indians of their anticipated pleasure of dancing over my scalp. My limbs were so much swollen the next morning, that for two or three days ensuing it was with great difficulty I got about. My whole system was also in great pain. In a few days, however, I was as well as ever, and ready to repay the Indians for their trouble.

The third day after my escape, my companion Aleck found his way into camp. He entered the lodge with dejection on his features.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I thank God for my escape, but the Indians have killed poor Jim. I saw his bones a few miles back. I will give anything I have if a party will go with me and bury him. The wolves have almost picked his bones, but it must be he. Poor, poor Jim! gone at last!”

“Ha!” said some one present, “is Jim killed, then? Poor fellow! Well, Aleck, let us go back and give him a Christian burial.”

He had seen a body nearly devoured on the way, most likely that of the wounded Indian who had chased me in his retreat from our camp.

I came limping into the crowd at this moment, and addressed him before he had perceived me: “Halloo, Aleck, are you safe?”

He looked at me for a moment in astonishment, and then embraced me so tight that I thought he would suffocate me. He burst into a flood of tears, which for a time prevented his articulation. He looked at me again and again, as if in doubt of my identity.

At length he said, “Oh, Jim, you are safe! And how did you escape? I made sure that you were killed, and that the body I saw on the road was yours. Pshaw! I stopped and shed tears on a confounded dead Indian’s carcass!”

Aleck stated that the enemy had passed within ten feet without perceiving him; that his gun was cocked and well primed, so that if he had been discovered there would have been at least one red skin less to chase me. He had seen no Indians on his way to camp.

I was satisfied that some (if not all) of my pursuers knew me, for they were Black Feet, or they would not have taken such extraordinary pains to run me down. If they had succeeded in their endeavor, they would, in subsequent years, have saved their tribe many scalps.

From this encampment we moved on to Lewis’s Fork, on the Columbia River, where we made a final halt to prepare for the fall trapping season. Some small parties, getting tired of inaction, would occasionally sally out to the small mountain streams, all of which contained plenty of beaver, and would frequently come in with several skins.

I prepared my traps one day, thinking to go out alone, and see what my luck might be. I mounted my horse, and, on approaching a small stream, dismounted to take a careful survey, to see if there were any signs of beaver. Carefully ascending the bank of the stream, I peered over, and saw, not a beaver, but an Indian. He had his robe spread on the grass, and was engaged in freeing himself from vermin, with which all Indians abound. He had not seen nor heard me; his face was toward me, but inclined, and he was intently pursuing his occupation.

“Here,” thought I, “are a gun, a bow, a quiver full of arrows, a good robe and a scalp.”

I fired my rifle; the Indian fell over without uttering a sound. I not only took his scalp, but his head. I tied two locks of his long hair together, hung his head on the horn of my saddle, and, taking the spoils of the enemy, hurried back to camp.

The next morning our camp was invested by two thousand five hundred warriors of the Black Foot tribe. We had now something on our hands which demanded attention. We were encamped in the bend of a river--in the “horseshoe.” Our lodges were pitched at the entrance, or narrowest part of the shoe, while our animals were driven back into the bend. The lodges, four deep, extended nearly across the land, forming a kind of barricade in front; not a very safe one for the inmates, since, being covered with buffalo-hides, they were penetrable to bullet and arrow.

The Indians made a furious charge. We immediately placed the women and children in the rear, sending them down the bend, where they were safe unless we were defeated. We suffered the Indians for a long time to act on the offensive, being content with defending ourselves and the camp. I advised Captain Sublet to let them weary themselves with charging, by which time we would mount and charge them with greater prospect of victory; whereas, should we tire ourselves while they were fresh, we should be overwhelmed by their numbers, and, if not defeated, inevitably lose a great many men.

All the mountaineers approved of my advice, and our plans were taken accordingly. They drove us from our first position twice, so that our lodges were between the contending ranks, but they never broke our lines. When they approached us very near we resorted to our arrows, which all our half-breeds used as skillfully as the Indians. Finally, perceiving they began to tire, I went and ordered the women to saddle the horses in haste. A horse was soon ready for each man, four hundred in number. Taking one hundred and thirty men, I passed out through the timber, keeping near the river until we could all emerge and form a line to charge them, unobserved, in the rear. While executing this diversion, the main body was to charge them in front. Defiling through the timber we came suddenly upon ten Indians who were resting from the fight, and were sitting on the ground unconcernedly smoking their pipes. We killed nine of them, the tenth one making good his retreat.

Our manœuvre succeeded admirably. The Indians were unconscious of our approach in their rear until they began to fall from their horses. Then charging on their main body simultaneously with Captain Sublet’s charge in front, their whole force was thrown into irretrievable confusion, and they fled without farther resistance. We did not pursue them, feeling very well satisfied to have got rid of them as we had. They left one hundred and sixty-seven dead on the field. Our loss was also very severe; sixteen killed, mostly half-breeds, and fifty or sixty wounded. In this action I received a wound in my left side, although I did not perceive it until the battle was over.

As usual, there was a scalp-dance after the victory, in which I really feared that the fair sex would dance themselves to death. They had a crying spell afterward for the dead. After all, it was a victory rather dearly purchased.

A few days after our battle, one of our old trappers, named Le Blueux, who had spent twenty years in the mountains, came to me, and telling me he knew of a small stream full of beaver which ran into Lewis’s Fork, about thirty miles from camp, wished me to accompany him there. We being free trappers at that time, the chance of obtaining a pack or two of beaver was rather a powerful incentive. Gain being my object, I readily acceded to his proposal. We put out from camp during the night, and traveled up Lewis’s Fork, leisurely discussing our prospects and confidently enumerating our unhatched chickens, when suddenly a large party of Indians came in sight in our rear.

The banks of the river we were traveling along were precipitous and rocky, and skirted with a thick bush. We entered the bush without a moment’s hesitation, for the Indians advanced on us as soon as they had caught sight of us. Le Blueux had a small bell attached to his horse’s neck, which he took off, and, creeping to a large bush, fastened it with the end of his lariat, and returned holding the other end in his hand. This stratagem caused the Indians to expend a great amount of powder and shot in their effort to kill the bell; for, of course, they supposed the bell indicated the position of ourselves. When they approached near enough to be seen through the bushes, we fired one gun at a time, always keeping the other loaded. When we fired the bell would ring, as if the horse was started by the close proximity of the gun, but the smoke would not rise in the right place. They continued to shoot at random into the bushes without injuring us or our faithful animals, who were close by us, but entirely concealed from the sight of the Indians. My companion filled his pipe and commenced smoking with as much sang froid as if he had been in camp.

“This is the last smoke I expect to have between here and camp,” said he.

“What are we to do?” I inquired, not feeling our position very secure in a brush fort manned with a company of two, and beleaguered by scores of Black Foot warriors.

In an instant, before I had time to think, crack went his rifle, and down came an Indian, who, more bold than the rest, had approached too near to our garrison.

“Now,” said Le Blueux, “bind your leggins and moccasins around your head.”

I did so, while he obeyed the same order.

“Now follow me.”

Wondering what bold project he was about to execute, I quietly obeyed him. He went noiselessly to the edge of the bluff, looked narrowly up and down the river, and then commenced to slide down the almost perpendicular bank, I closely following him. We safely reached the river, into which we dropped ourselves. We swam close under the bank for more than a mile, until they discovered us.

“Now,” said my comrade, “strike across the stream in double quick time.”

We soon reached the opposite bank, and found ourselves a good mile and a half ahead of the Indians. They commenced plunging into the river in pursuit, but they were too late. We ran across the open ground until we reached a mountain, where we could safely look back and laugh at our pursuers. We had lost our horses and guns, while they had sacrificed six or eight of their warriors, besides missing the two scalps they made so certain of getting hold of.

I had thought myself a pretty good match for the Indians, but I at once resigned all claims to merit. Le Blueux, in addition to all the acquired wiles of the Red Man, possessed his own superior art and cunning. He could be surrounded with no difficulties for which his inexhaustible brain could not devise some secure mode of escape.

We arrived safe at camp before the first guard was relieved. The following morning we received a severe reprimand from Captain Sublet for exposing ourselves on so hazardous an adventure.

As soon as the wounded were sufficiently recovered to be able to travel, we moved down the river to the junction of Salt River with Guy’s Fork, about a mile from Snake River. The next day the captain resolved to pass up to Guy’s Fork to a convenient camping-ground, where we were to spend the interval until it was time to separate into small parties, and commence trapping in good earnest for the season.

One day, while moving leisurely along, two men and myself proposed to the captain to proceed ahead of the main party to ascertain the best road, to reconnoitre the various streams--in short, to make it a trip of discovery. We were to encamp one night, and rejoin the main body the next morning. The captain consented, but gave us strict caution to take good care of ourselves.

Nothing of importance occurred that day; but the next morning, about sunrise, we were all thunderstruck at being roused from our sleep by the discharge of guns close at hand. Two of us rose in an instant, and gave the war-hoop as a challenge for them to come on. Poor Cotton, the third of our party, was killed at the first fire. When they saw us arise, rifle in hand, they drew back; whereas, had they rushed on with their battle-axes, they could have killed us in an instant. One of our horses was also killed, which, with the body of our dead comrade, we used for a breastwork, throwing up, at the same time, all the dirt we could to protect ourselves as far as we were able. The Indians, five hundred in number, showered their balls on us, but, being careful to keep at a safe distance, they did us no damage for some time. At length my companion received a shot through the heel, while carelessly throwing up his feet in crawling to get a sight at the Indians without exposing his body. I received some slight scratches, but no injury that occasioned me any real inconvenience.

Providence at last came to our relief. Our camp was moving along slowly, shooting buffalo occasionally, when some of the women, hearing our guns, ran to the captain, exclaiming, “There is a fight. Hark! hear the guns!”

He, concluding that there was more distant fighting than is common in killing buffalo, dispatched sixty men in all possible haste in the direction of the reports. We saw them as they appeared in sight on the brow of a hill not far distant, and sent up a shout of triumph. The Indians also caught sight of them, and immediately retreated, leaving seventeen warriors dead in front of our little fort, whom we relieved of their scalps.

We returned to camp after burying our companion, whose body was literally riddled with bullets. The next day we made a very successful _surround_ of buffalo, killing great numbers of them. In the evening, several of our friends, the Snakes, came to us and told us their village was only five miles farther up, wishing us to move up near them to open a trade. After curing our meat, we moved on and encamped near the friendly Snakes. We learned that there were one hundred and eighty-five lodges of Pun-naks encamped only two miles distant, a discarded band of the Snakes, very bad Indians, and very great thieves. Captain Sublet informed the Snakes that if the Pun-naks should steal any of his horses or anything belonging to his camp, he would _rub them all out_, and he wished the friendly Snakes to tell them so.

Two of our men and one of the Snakes having strolled down to the Pun-nak lodges one evening, they were set upon, and the Snake was killed, and the two of our camp came home wounded. The next morning volunteers were called to punish the Pun-naks for their outrage. Two hundred and fifteen immediately presented themselves at the call, and our captain appointed Bridger leader of the troop.

We started to inflict vengeance, but when we arrived at the site of the village, behold! there was no village there. They had packed up and left immediately after the perpetration of the outrage, they fearing, no doubt, that ample vengeance would be taken upon them.

We followed their trail forty-five miles, and came up with them on Green River. Seeing our approach, they all made across to a small island in the river.

“What shall we do now, Jim?” inquired our leader.

“I will cross to the other side with one half the men,” I suggested, “and get abreast of the island. Their retreat will be thus cut off, and we can exterminate them in their trap.”

“Go,” said he; “I will take them if they attempt to make this shore.”

I was soon in position, and the enfilading commenced, and was continued until there was not one left of either sex or any age. We carried back four hundred and eighty-eight scalps, and, as we then supposed, annihilated the Pun-nak band. On our return, however, we found six or eight of their squaws, who had been left behind in the flight, whom we carried back and gave to the Snakes.

On informing the Snakes of what had taken place, they expressed great delight. “Right!” they said. “Pun-naks very bad Indians”; and they joined in the scalp-dance.

We afterward learned that the Pun-naks, when they fled from our vengeance, had previously sent their old men, and a great proportion of their women and children, to the mountains, at which we were greatly pleased, as it spared the effusion of much unnecessary blood. They had a great “medicine chief” slain with the others on the island; his _medicine_ was not good this time, at least.

We proceeded thence to a small creek, called Black Foot Creek, in the heart of the Black Foot country.

It was always our custom, before turning out our horses in the morning, to send out spies to reconnoitre around, and see if any Indians were lurking about to steal them. When preparing to move one morning from the last-named creek, we sent out two men; but they had not proceeded twenty yards from our _corral_ before a dozen shots were fired at them by a party of Black Feet, bringing them from their horses severely wounded. In a moment the whole camp was in motion. The savages made a bold and desperate attempt to rush upon the wounded men and get their scalps, but we were on the ground in time to prevent them, and drove them back, killing four of their number.