Route toward—Wind River—Dangerous neighborhood—Alarms and precautions—A sham encampment—Apparition of an Indian spy—Midnight move—A mountain defile—The Wind River valley—Tracking a party—Deserted camps—Symptoms of Crows—Meeting of comrades—A trapper entrapped—Crow pleasantry—Crow spies—A decampment—Return to Green River valley—Meeting with Fitzpatrick's party—Their adventures among the Crows—Orthodox Crows
ON THE 18TH of September, Captain Bonneville and his three companions
set out, bright and early, to rejoin the main party, from which they had
parted on Wind River. Their route lay up the Green River valley, with
that stream on their right hand, and beyond it, the range of Wind River
Mountains. At the head of the valley, they were to pass through a defile
which would bring them out beyond the northern end of these mountains,
to the head of Wind River; where they expected to meet the main party,
according to arrangement.
We have already adverted to the dangerous nature of this neighborhood,
infested by roving bands of Crows and Blackfeet; to whom the numerous
defiles and passes of the country afford capital places for ambush and
surprise. The travellers, therefore, kept a vigilant eye upon everything
that might give intimation of lurking danger.
About two hours after mid-day, as they reached the summit of a hill,
they discovered buffalo on the plain below, running in every direction.
One of the men, too, fancied he heard the report of a gun. It was
concluded, therefore, that there was some party of Indians below,
hunting the buffalo.
The horses were immediately concealed in a narrow ravine; and the
captain, mounting an eminence, but concealing himself from view,
reconnoitred the whole neighborhood with a telescope. Not an Indian was
to be seen; so, after halting about an hour, he resumed his journey.
Convinced, however, that he was in a dangerous neighborhood, he advanced
with the utmost caution; winding his way through hollows and ravines,
and avoiding, as much as possible, any open tract, or rising ground,
that might betray his little party to the watchful eye of an Indian
scout.
Arriving, at length, at the edge of the open meadow-land bordering
on the river, he again observed the buffalo, as far as he could see,
scampering in great alarm. Once more concealing the horses, he and his
companions remained for a long time watching the various groups of the
animals, as each caught the panic and started off; but they sought in
vain to discover the cause.
They were now about to enter the mountain defile, at the head of Green
River valley, where they might be waylaid and attacked; they, therefore,
arranged the packs on their horses, in the manner most secure and
convenient for sudden flight, should such be necessary. This done, they
again set forward, keeping the most anxious look-out in every direction.
It was now drawing toward evening; but they could not think of encamping
for the night, in a place so full of danger. Captain Bonneville,
therefore, determined to halt about sunset, kindle a fire, as if for
encampment, cook and eat supper; but, as soon as it was sufficiently
dark, to make a rapid move for the summit of the mountain, and seek some
secluded spot for their night's lodgings.
Accordingly, as the sun went down, the little party came to a halt, made
a large fire, spitted their buffalo meat on wooden sticks, and, when
sufficiently roasted, planted the savory viands before them; cutting
off huge slices with their hunting knives, and supping with a hunter's
appetite. The light of their fire would not fail, as they knew, to
attract the attention of any Indian horde in the neighborhood; but they
trusted to be off and away, before any prowlers could reach the place.
While they were supping thus hastily, however, one of their party
suddenly started up and shouted "Indians!" All were instantly on their
feet, with their rifles in their hands; but could see no enemy. The
man, however, declared that he had seen an Indian advancing, cautiously,
along the trail which they had made in coming to the encampment; who,
the moment he was perceived, had thrown himself on the ground, and
disappeared. He urged Captain Bonneville instantly to decamp. The
captain, however, took the matter more coolly. The single fact, that the
Indian had endeavored to hide himself, convinced him that he was not
one of a party, on the advance to make an attack. He was, probably, some
scout, who had followed up their trail, until he came in sight of their
fire. He would, in such case, return, and report what he had seen to his
companions. These, supposing the white men had encamped for the night,
would keep aloof until very late, when all should be asleep. They would,
then, according to Indian tactics, make their stealthy approaches, and
place themselves in ambush around, preparatory to their attack, at the
usual hour of daylight.
Such was Captain Bonneville's conclusion; in consequence of which, he
counselled his men to keep perfectly quiet, and act as if free from
all alarm, until the proper time arrived for a move. They, accordingly,
continued their repast with pretended appetite and jollity; and then
trimmed and replenished their fire, as if for a bivouac. As soon,
however, as the night had completely set in, they left their fire
blazing; walked quietly among the willows, and then leaping into their
saddles, made off as noiselessly as possible. In proportion as they left
the point of danger behind them, they relaxed in their rigid and anxious
taciturnity, and began to joke at the expense of their enemy; whom they
pictured to themselves mousing in the neighborhood of their deserted
fire, waiting for the proper time of attack, and preparing for a grand
disappointment.
About midnight, feeling satisfied that they had gained a secure
distance, they posted one of their number to keep watch, in case the
enemy should follow on their trail, and then, turning abruptly into a
dense and matted thicket of willows, halted for the night at the foot of
the mountain, instead of making for the summit, as they had originally
intended.
A trapper in the wilderness, like a sailor on the ocean, snatches
morsels of enjoyment in the midst of trouble, and sleeps soundly when
surrounded by danger. The little party now made their arrangements for
sleep with perfect calmness; they did not venture to make a fire and
cook, it is true, though generally done by hunters whenever they come
to a halt, and have provisions. They comforted themselves, however,
by smoking a tranquil pipe; and then calling in the watch, and turning
loose the horses, stretched themselves on their pallets, agreed that
whoever should first awake, should rouse the rest, and in a little while
were all as sound asleep as though in the midst of a fortress.
A little before day, they were all on the alert; it was the hour for
Indian maraud. A sentinel was immediately detached, to post himself at
a little distance on their trail, and give the alarm, should he see or
hear an enemy.
With the first blink of dawn, the rest sought the horses; brought them
to the camp, and tied them up, until an hour after sunrise; when, the
sentinel having reported that all was well, they sprang once more into
their saddles, and pursued the most covert and secret paths up the
mountain, avoiding the direct route.
At noon, they halted and made a hasty repast; and then bent their course
so as to regain the route from which they had diverged. They were now
made sensible of the danger from which they had just escaped. There were
tracks of Indians, who had evidently been in pursuit of them; but had
recently returned, baffled in their search.
Trusting that they had now got a fair start, and could not be overtaken
before night, even in case the Indians should renew the chase, they
pushed briskly forward, and did not encamp until late; when they
cautiously concealed themselves in a secure nook of the mountains.
Without any further alarm, they made their way to the head waters of
Wind River, and reached the neighborhood in which they had appointed
the rendezvous with their companions. It was within the precincts of the
Crow country; the Wind River valley being one of the favorite haunts of
that restless tribe. After much searching, Captain Bonneville came upon
a trail which had evidently been made by his main party. It was so old,
however, that he feared his people might have left the neighborhood;
driven off, perhaps by some of those war parties which were on the
prowl. He continued his search with great anxiety, and no little
fatigue; for his horses were jaded, and almost crippled, by their forced
marches and scramblings through rocky defiles.
On the following day, about noon, Captain Bonneville came upon a
deserted camp of his people, from which they had, evidently, turned
back; but he could find no signs to indicate why they had done so;
whether they had met with misfortune, or molestation, or in what
direction they had gone. He was now, more than ever, perplexed.
On the following day, he resumed his march with increasing anxiety. The
feet of his horses had by this time become so worn and wounded by the
rocks, that he had to make moccasons for them of buffalo hide. About
noon, he came to another deserted camp of his men; but soon after lost
their trail. After great search, he once more found it, turning in a
southerly direction along the eastern bases of the Wind River Mountains,
which towered to the right. He now pushed forward with all possible
speed, in hopes of overtaking the party. At night, he slept at another
of their camps, from which they had but recently departed. When the day
dawned sufficiently to distinguish objects, he perceived the danger that
must be dogging the heels of his main party. All about the camp were
traces of Indians who must have been prowling about it at the time his
people had passed the night there; and who must still be hovering about
them. Convinced, now, that the main party could not be at any great
distance, he mounted a scout on the best horse, and sent him forward to
overtake them, to warn them of their danger, and to order them to halt,
until he should rejoin them.
In the afternoon, to his great joy, he met the scout returning, with
six comrades from the main party, leading fresh horses for his
accommodation; and on the following day (September 25th), all hands
were once more reunited, after a separation of nearly three weeks. Their
meeting was hearty and joyous; for they had both experienced dangers and
perplexities.
The main party, in pursuing their course up the Wind River valley, had
been dogged the whole way by a war party of Crows. In one place, they
had been fired upon, but without injury; in another place, one of their
horses had been cut loose, and carried off. At length, they were so
closely beset, that they were obliged to make a retrogade move, lest
they should be surprised and overcome. This was the movement which had
caused such perplexity to Captain Bonneville.
The whole party now remained encamped for two or three days, to give
repose to both men and horses. Some of the trappers, however, pursued
their vocations about the neighboring streams. While one of them was
setting his traps, he heard the tramp of horses, and looking up,
beheld a party of Crow braves moving along at no great distance, with a
considerable cavalcade. The trapper hastened to conceal himself, but was
discerned by the quick eye of the savages. With whoops and yells,
they dragged him from his hiding-place, flourished over his head their
tomahawks and scalping-knives, and for a time, the poor trapper gave
himself up for lost. Fortunately, the Crows were in a jocose, rather
than a sanguinary mood. They amused themselves heartily, for a while,
at the expense of his terrors; and after having played off divers Crow
pranks and pleasantries, suffered him to depart unharmed. It is true,
they stripped him completely, one taking his horse, another his gun,
a third his traps, a fourth his blanket, and so on, through all his
accoutrements, and even his clothing, until he was stark naked; but then
they generously made him a present of an old tattered buffalo robe, and
dismissed him, with many complimentary speeches, and much laughter. When
the trapper returned to the camp, in such sorry plight, he was greeted
with peals of laughter from his comrades and seemed more mortified by
the style in which he had been dismissed, than rejoiced at escaping with
his life. A circumstance which he related to Captain Bonneville, gave
some insight into the cause of this extreme jocularity on the part
of the Crows. They had evidently had a run of luck, and, like winning
gamblers, were in high good humor. Among twenty-six fine horses, and
some mules, which composed their cavalcade, the trapper recognized a
number which had belonged to Fitzpatrick's brigade, when they parted
company on the Bighorn. It was supposed, therefore, that these vagabonds
had been on his trail, and robbed him of part of his cavalry.
On the day following this affair, three Crows came into Captain
Bonneville's camp, with the most easy, innocent, if not impudent air
imaginable; walking about with the imperturbable coolness and unconcern,
in which the Indian rivals the fine gentleman. As they had not been of
the set which stripped the trapper, though evidently of the same band,
they were not molested. Indeed, Captain Bonneville treated them with his
usual kindness and hospitality; permitting them to remain all day in the
camp, and even to pass the night there. At the same time, however, he
caused a strict watch to be maintained on all their movements; and at
night, stationed an armed sentinel near them. The Crows remonstrated
against the latter being armed. This only made the captain suspect
them to be spies, who meditated treachery; he redoubled, therefore, his
precautions. At the same time, he assured his guests, that while they
were perfectly welcome to the shelter and comfort of his camp, yet,
should any of their tribe venture to approach during the night, they
would certainly be shot; which would be a very unfortunate circumstance,
and much to be deplored. To the latter remark, they fully assented; and
shortly afterward commenced a wild song, or chant, which they kept up
for a long time, and in which they very probably gave their friends, who
might be prowling round the camp, notice that the white men were on the
alert. The night passed away without disturbance. In the morning, the
three Crow guests were very pressing that Captain Bonneville and his
party should accompany them to their camp, which they said was close
by. Instead of accepting their invitation, Captain Bonneville took his
departure with all possible dispatch, eager to be out of the vicinity
of such a piratical horde; nor did he relax the diligence of his march,
until, on the second day, he reached the banks of the Sweet Water,
beyond the limits of the Crow country, and a heavy fall of snow had
obliterated all traces of his course.
He now continued on for some few days, at a slower pace, round the point
of the mountain toward Green River, and arrived once more at the caches,
on the 14th of October.
Here they found traces of the band of Indians who had hunted them in the
defile toward the head waters of Wind River. Having lost all trace of
them on their way over the mountains, they had turned and followed back
their trail down the Green River valley to the caches. One of these they
had discovered and broken open, but it fortunately contained nothing but
fragments of old iron, which they had scattered about in all directions,
and then departed. In examining their deserted camp, Captain Bonneville
discovered that it numbered thirty-nine fires, and had more reason than
ever to congratulate himself on having escaped the clutches of such a
formidable band of freebooters.
He now turned his course southward, under cover of the mountains, and on
the 25th of October reached Liberge's Ford, a tributary of the Colorado,
where he came suddenly upon the trail of this same war party, which
had crossed the stream so recently that the banks were yet wet with the
water that had been splashed upon them. To judge from their tracks, they
could not be less than three hundred warriors, and apparently of the
Crow nation.
Captain Bonneville was extremely uneasy lest this overpowering force
should come upon him in some place where he would not have the means of
fortifying himself promptly. He now moved toward Hane's Fork, another
tributary of the Colorado, where he encamped, and remained during the
26th of October. Seeing a large cloud of smoke to the south, he supposed
it to arise from some encampment of Shoshonies, and sent scouts to
procure information, and to purchase a lodge. It was, in fact, a band
of Shoshonies, but with them were encamped Fitzpatrick and his party
of trappers. That active leader had an eventful story to relate of
his fortunes in the country of the Crows. After parting with Captain
Bonneville on the banks of the Bighorn, he made for the west, to trap
upon Powder and Tongue Rivers. He had between twenty and thirty men with
him, and about one hundred horses. So large a cavalcade could not
pass through the Crow country without attracting the attention of its
freebooting hordes. A large band of Crows was soon on their traces,
and came up with them on the 5th of September, just as they had reached
Tongue River. The Crow chief came forward with great appearance
of friendship, and proposed to Fitzpatrick that they should encamp
together. The latter, however, not having any faith in Crows, declined
the invitation, and pitched his camp three miles off. He then rode over
with two or three men, to visit the Crow chief, by whom he was received
with great apparent cordiality. In the meantime, however, a party of
young braves, who considered them absolved by his distrust from all
scruples of honor, made a circuit privately, and dashed into his
encampment. Captain Stewart, who had remained there in the absence of
Fitzpatrick, behaved with great spirit; but the Crows were too numerous
and active. They had got possession of the camp, and soon made booty
of every thing—carrying off all the horses. On their way back they met
Fitzpatrick returning to his camp; and finished their exploit by rifling
and nearly stripping him.
A negotiation now took place between the plundered white men and the
triumphant Crows; what eloquence and management Fitzpatrick made use of,
we do not know, but he succeeded in prevailing upon the Crow chieftain
to return him his horses and many of his traps; together with his rifles
and a few rounds of ammunition for each man. He then set out with all
speed to abandon the Crow country, before he should meet with any fresh
disasters.
After his departure, the consciences of some of the most orthodox Crows
pricked them sorely for having suffered such a cavalcade to escape out
of their hands. Anxious to wipe off so foul a stigma on the reputation
of the Crow nation, they followed on his trial, nor quit hovering about
him on his march until they had stolen a number of his best horses and
mules. It was, doubtless, this same band which came upon the lonely
trapper on the Popo Agie, and generously gave him an old buffalo robe in
exchange for his rifle, his traps, and all his accoutrements. With these
anecdotes, we shall, for present, take our leave of the Crow country and
its vagabond chivalry.
