Rival trapping parties—Manoeuvring—A desperate game—Vanderburgh and the Blackfeet—Deserted camp fire—A dark defile—An Indian ambush—A fierce melee—Fatal consequences—Fitzpatrick and Bridger—Trappers precautions—Meeting with the Blackfeet—More fighting—Anecdote of a young—Mexican and an Indian girl.
WHILE Captain Bonneville and his men are sojourning among the Nez
Perces, on Salmon River, we will inquire after the fortunes of those
doughty rivals of the Rocky Mountains and American Fur Companies, who
started off for the trapping grounds to the north-northwest.
Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the former company, as we have already
shown, having received their supplies, had taken the lead, and hoped
to have the first sweep of the hunting grounds. Vanderburgh and
Dripps, however, the two resident partners of the opposite company, by
extraordinary exertions were enabled soon to put themselves upon their
traces, and pressed forward with such speed as to overtake them just
as they had reached the heart of the beaver country. In fact, being
ignorant of the best trapping grounds, it was their object to follow on,
and profit by the superior knowledge of the other party.
Nothing could equal the chagrin of Fitzpatrick and Bridger at being
dogged by their inexperienced rivals, especially after their offer
to divide the country with them. They tried in every way to blind and
baffle them; to steal a march upon them, or lead them on a wrong scent;
but all in vain. Vanderburgh made up by activity and intelligence for
his ignorance of the country; was always wary, always on the alert;
discovered every movement of his rivals, however secret and was not to
be eluded or misled.
Fitzpatrick and his colleague now lost all patience; since the
others persisted in following them, they determined to give them an
unprofitable chase, and to sacrifice the hunting season rather than
share the products with their rivals. They accordingly took up their
line of march down the course of the Missouri, keeping the main
Blackfoot trail, and tramping doggedly forward, without stopping to set
a single trap. The others beat the hoof after them for some time, but
by degrees began to perceive that they were on a wild-goose chase, and
getting into a country perfectly barren to the trapper. They now came
to a halt, and be-thought themselves how to make up for lost time, and
improve the remainder of the season. It was thought best to divide their
forces and try different trapping grounds. While Dripps went in one
direction, Vanderburgh, with about fifty men, proceeded in another.
The latter, in his headlong march had got into the very heart of the
Blackfoot country, yet seems to have been unconscious of his danger. As
his scouts were out one day, they came upon the traces of a recent band
of savages. There were the deserted fires still smoking, surrounded
by the carcasses of buffaloes just killed. It was evident a party
of Blackfeet had been frightened from their hunting camp, and had
retreated, probably to seek reinforcements. The scouts hastened back to
the camp, and told Vanderburgh what they had seen. He made light of the
alarm, and, taking nine men with him, galloped off to reconnoitre for
himself. He found the deserted hunting camp just as they had represented
it; there lay the carcasses of buffaloes, partly dismembered; there
were the smouldering fires, still sending up their wreaths of smoke;
everything bore traces of recent and hasty retreat; and gave reason to
believe that the savages were still lurking in the neighborhood. With
heedless daring, Vanderburgh put himself upon their trail, to trace them
to their place of concealment: It led him over prairies, and through
skirts of woodland, until it entered a dark and dangerous ravine.
Vanderburgh pushed in, without hesitation, followed by his little
band. They soon found themselves in a gloomy dell, between steep banks
overhung with trees, where the profound silence was only broken by the
tramp of their own horses.
Suddenly the horrid war-whoop burst on their ears, mingled with the
sharp report of rifles, and a legion of savages sprang from their
concealments, yelling, and shaking their buffalo robes to frighten
the horses. Vanderburgh's horse fell, mortally wounded by the first
discharge. In his fall he pinned his rider to the ground, who called
in vain upon his men to assist in extricating him. One was shot down
scalped a few paces distant; most of the others were severely wounded,
and sought their safety in flight. The savages approached to dispatch
the unfortunate leader, as he lay struggling beneath his horse.. He
had still his rifle in his hand and his pistols in his belt. The first
savage that advanced received the contents of the rifle in his breast,
and fell dead upon the spot; but before Vanderburgh could draw a pistol,
a blow from a tomahawk laid him prostrate, and he was dispatched by
repeated wounds.
Such was the fate of Major Henry Vanderburgh, one of the best and
worthiest leaders of the American Fur Company, who by his manly bearing
and dauntless courage is said to have made himself universally popular
among the bold-hearted rovers of the wilderness.
Those of the little band who escaped fled in consternation to the camp,
and spread direful reports of the force and ferocity of the enemy. The
party, being without a head, were in complete confusion and dismay, and
made a precipitate retreat, without attempting to recover the remains
of their butchered leader. They made no halt until they reached the
encampment of the Pends Oreilles, or Hanging-ears, where they offered a
reward for the recovery of the body, but without success; it never could
be found.
In the meantime Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the Rocky Mountain Company,
fared but little better than their rivals. In their eagerness to
mislead them they betrayed themselves into danger, and got into a region
infested with the Blackfeet. They soon found that foes were on the watch
for them; but they were experienced in Indian warfare, and not to be
surprised at night, nor drawn into an ambush in the daytime. As the
evening advanced, the horses were all brought in and picketed, and a
guard was stationed round the camp. At the earliest streak of day one of
the leaders would mount his horse, and gallop off full speed for about
half a mile; then look round for Indian trails, to ascertain whether
there had been any lurkers round the camp; returning slowly, he would
reconnoitre every ravine and thicket where there might be an ambush.
This done, he would gallop off in an opposite direction and repeat the
same scrutiny. Finding all things safe, the horses would be turned loose
to graze, but always under the eye of a guard.
A caution equally vigilant was observed in the march, on approaching any
defile or place where an enemy might lie in wait; and scouts were always
kept in the advance, or along the ridges and rising grounds on the
flanks.
At length, one day, a large band of Blackfeet appeared in the open
field, but in the vicinity of rocks and cliffs. They kept at a wary
distance, but made friendly signs. The trappers replied in the same way,
but likewise kept aloof. A small party of Indians now advanced, bearing
the pipe of peace; they were met by an equal number of white men, and
they formed a group midway between the two bands, where the pipe was
circulated from hand to hand, and smoked with all due ceremony. An
instance of natural affection took place at this pacific meeting.
Among the free trappers in the Rocky Mountain band was a spirited
young Mexican named Loretto, who, in the course of his wanderings, had
ransomed a beautiful Blackfoot girl from a band of Crows by whom she had
been captured. He made her his wife, after the Indian style, and she had
followed his fortunes ever since, with the most devoted affection.
Among the Blackfeet warriors who advanced with the calumet of peace she
recognized a brother. Leaving her infant with Loretto she rushed forward
and threw herself upon her brother's neck, who clasped his long-lost
sister to his heart with a warmth of affection but little compatible
with the reputed stoicism of the savage.
While this scene was taking place, Bridger left the main body of
trappers and rode slowly toward the group of smokers, with his rifle
resting across the pommel of his saddle. The chief of the Blackfeet
stepped forward to meet him. From some unfortunate feeling of distrust
Bridger cocked his rifle just as the chief was extending his hand in
friendship. The quick ear of the savage caught the click of the lock; in
a twinkling he grasped the barrel, forced the muzzle downward, and the
contents were discharged into the earth at his feet. His next movement
was to wrest the weapon from the hand of Bridger and fell him with it to
the earth. He might have found this no easy task had not the unfortunate
leader received two arrows in his back during the struggle.
The chief now sprang into the vacant saddle and galloped off to his
band. A wild hurry-skurry scene ensued; each party took to the banks,
the rocks and trees, to gain favorable positions, and an irregular
firing was kept up on either side, without much effect. The Indian girl
had been hurried off by her people at the outbreak of the affray. She
would have returned, through the dangers of the fight, to her husband
and her child, but was prevented by her brother. The young Mexican
saw her struggles and her agony, and heard her piercing cries. With a
generous impulse he caught up the child in his arms, rushed forward,
regardless of Indian shaft or rifle, and placed it in safety upon her
bosom. Even the savage heart of the Blackfoot chief was reached by this
noble deed. He pronounced Loretto a madman for his temerity, but bade
him depart in peace. The young Mexican hesitated; he urged to have his
wife restored to him, but her brother interfered, and the countenance of
the chief grew dark. The girl, he said, belonged to his tribe-she must
remain with her people. Loretto would still have lingered, but his wife
implored him to depart, lest his life should be endangered. It was with
the greatest reluctance that he returned to his companions.
The approach of night put an end to the skirmishing fire of the adverse
parties, and the savages drew off without renewing their hostilities. We
cannot but remark that both in this affair and that of Pierre's Hole the
affray commenced by a hostile act on the part of white men at the moment
when the Indian warrior was extending the hand of amity. In neither
instance, as far as circumstances have been stated to us by different
persons, do we see any reason to suspect the savage chiefs of perfidy in
their overtures of friendship. They advanced in the confiding way usual
among Indians when they bear the pipe of peace, and consider themselves
sacred from attack. If we violate the sanctity of this ceremonial,
by any hostile movement on our part, it is we who incur the charge of
faithlessness; and we doubt not that in both these instances the white
men have been considered by the Blackfeet as the aggressors, and have,
in consequence, been held up as men not to be trusted.
A word to conclude the romantic incident of Loretto and his Indian
bride. A few months subsequent to the event just related, the young
Mexican settled his accounts with the Rocky Mountain Company, and
obtained his discharge. He then left his comrades and set off to rejoin
his wife and child among her people; and we understand that, at the time
we are writing these pages, he resides at a trading-house established of
late by the American Fur Company in the Blackfoot country, where he acts
as an interpreter, and has his Indian girl with him.
