A region of natural curiosities—The plain of white clay—Hot springs—The Beer Spring—Departure to seek the free trappers—Plain of Portneuf—Lava—Chasms and gullies—Bannack Indians—Their hunt of the buffalo—Hunter's feast—Trencher heroes—Bullying of an absent foe—The damp comrade—The Indian spy—Meeting with Hodgkiss—His adventures—Poordevil Indians—Triumph of the Bannacks—Blackfeet policy in war
CROSSING AN ELEVATED RIDGE, Captain Bonneville now came upon Bear
River, which, from its source to its entrance into the Great Salt Lake,
describes the figure of a horse-shoe. One of the principal head waters
of this river, although supposed to abound with beaver, has never
been visited by the trapper; rising among rugged mountains, and being
barricadoed [sic] by fallen pine trees and tremendous precipices.
Proceeding down this river, the party encamped, on the 6th of November,
at the outlet of a lake about thirty miles long, and from two to three
miles in width, completely imbedded in low ranges of mountains, and
connected with Bear River by an impassable swamp. It is called the
Little Lake, to distinguish it from the great one of salt water.
On the 10th of November, Captain Bonneville visited a place in the
neighborhood which is quite a region of natural curiosities. An area
of about half a mile square presents a level surface of white clay or
fuller's earth, perfectly spotless, resembling a great slab of Parian
marble, or a sheet of dazzling snow. The effect is strikingly beautiful
at all times: in summer, when it is surrounded with verdure, or in
autumn, when it contrasts its bright immaculate surface with the
withered herbage. Seen from a distant eminence, it then shines like
a mirror, set in the brown landscape. Around this plain are clustered
numerous springs of various sizes and temperatures. One of them, of
scalding heat, boils furiously and incessantly, rising to the height of
two or three feet. In another place, there is an aperture in the earth,
from which rushes a column of steam that forms a perpetual cloud. The
ground for some distance around sounds hollow, and startles the solitary
trapper, as he hears the tramp of his horse giving the sound of a
muffled drum. He pictures to himself a mysterious gulf below, a place of
hidden fires, and gazes round him with awe and uneasiness.
The most noted curiosity, however, of this singular region, is the Beer
Spring, of which trappers give wonderful accounts. They are said to turn
aside from their route through the country to drink of its waters, with
as much eagerness as the Arab seeks some famous well of the desert.
Captain Bonneville describes it as having the taste of beer. His men
drank it with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did not appear to him
to possess any medicinal properties, or to produce any peculiar effects.
The Indians, however, refuse to taste it, and endeavor to persuade the
white men from doing so.
We have heard this also called the Soda Spring, and described as
containing iron and sulphur. It probably possesses some of the
properties of the Ballston water.
The time had now arrived for Captain Bonneville to go in quest of the
party of free trappers, detached in the beginning of July, under the
command of Mr. Hodgkiss, to trap upon the head waters of Salmon River.
His intention was to unite them with the party with which he was at
present travelling, that all might go into quarters together for the
winter. Accordingly, on the 11th of November, he took a temporary leave
of his band, appointing a rendezvous on Snake River, and, accompanied by three men, set out upon his journey. His route lay across the plain of the Portneuf, a tributary stream of Snake River, called after an
unfortunate Canadian trapper murdered by the Indians. The whole country
through which he passed bore evidence of volcanic convulsions and
conflagrations in the olden time. Great masses of lava lay scattered
about in every direction; the crags and cliffs had apparently been under
the action of fire; the rocks in some places seemed to have been in
a state of fusion; the plain was rent and split with deep chasms and
gullies, some of which were partly filled with lava.
They had not proceeded far, however, before they saw a party of
horsemen, galloping full tilt toward them. They instantly turned, and
made full speed for the covert of a woody stream, to fortify themselves
among the trees. The Indians came to a halt, and one of them came
forward alone. He reached Captain Bonneville and his men just as they
were dismounting and about to post themselves. A few words dispelled all
uneasiness. It was a party of twenty-five Bannack Indians, friendly to
the whites, and they proposed, through their envoy, that both parties
should encamp together, and hunt the buffalo, of which they had
discovered several large herds hard by. Captain Bonneville cheerfully
assented to their proposition, being curious to see their manner of
hunting.
Both parties accordingly encamped together on a convenient spot, and
prepared for the hunt. The Indians first posted a boy on a small hill
near the camp, to keep a look-out for enemies. The "runners," then,
as they are called, mounted on fleet horses, and armed with bows and
arrows, moved slowly and cautiously toward the buffalo, keeping as much
as possible out of sight, in hollows and ravines. When within a proper
distance, a signal was given, and they all opened at once like a pack
of hounds, with a full chorus of yells, dashing into the midst of the
herds, and launching their arrows to the right and left. The plain
seemed absolutely to shake under the tramp of the buffalo, as they
scoured off. The cows in headlong panic, the bulls furious with rage,
uttering deep roars, and occasionally turning with a desperate rush upon
their pursuers. Nothing could surpass the spirit, grace, and dexterity,
with which the Indians managed their horses; wheeling and coursing among
the affrighted herd, and launching their arrows with unerring aim. In
the midst of the apparent confusion, they selected their victims with
perfect judgment, generally aiming at the fattest of the cows, the flesh
of the bull being nearly worthless, at this season of the year. In a few
minutes, each of the hunters had crippled three or four cows. A single
shot was sufficient for the purpose, and the animal, once maimed, was
left to be completely dispatched at the end of the chase. Frequently, a
cow was killed on the spot by a single arrow. In one instance, Captain
Bonneville saw an Indian shoot his arrow completely through the body of
a cow, so that it struck in the ground beyond. The bulls, however, are
not so easily killed as the cows, and always cost the hunter several
arrows; sometimes making battle upon the horses, and chasing them
furiously, though severely wounded, with the darts still sticking in
their flesh.
The grand scamper of the hunt being over, the Indians proceeded to
dispatch the animals that had been disabled; then cutting up the
carcasses, they returned with loads of meat to the camp, where the
choicest pieces were soon roasting before large fires, and a hunters'
feast succeeded; at which Captain Bonneville and his men were qualified,
by previous fasting, to perform their parts with great vigor.
Some men are said to wax valorous upon a full stomach, and such seemed
to be the case with the Bannack braves, who, in proportion as they
crammed themselves with buffalo meat, grew stout of heart, until, the
supper at an end, they began to chant war songs, setting forth their
mighty deeds, and the victories they had gained over the Blackfeet.
Warming with the theme, and inflating themselves with their own
eulogies, these magnanimous heroes of the trencher would start up,
advance a short distance beyond the light of the fire, and apostrophize
most vehemently their Blackfeet enemies, as though they had been within
hearing. Ruffling, and swelling, and snorting, and slapping their
breasts, and brandishing their arms, they would vociferate all their
exploits; reminding the Blackfeet how they had drenched their towns in
tears and blood; enumerate the blows they had inflicted, the warriors
they had slain, the scalps they had brought off in triumph. Then, having
said everything that could stir a man's spleen or pique his valor, they
would dare their imaginary hearers, now that the Bannacks were few
in number, to come and take their revenge—receiving no reply to
this valorous bravado, they would conclude by all kinds of sneers and
insults, deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and poltroons, that
dared not accept their challenge. Such is the kind of swaggering and
rhodomontade in which the "red men" are prone to indulge in their
vainglorious moments; for, with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are
vehemently prone at times to become eloquent about their exploits, and
to sound their own trumpet.
Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the Bannack
braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests, smoothed their
ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to sleep, without placing a
single guard over their camp; so that, had the Blackfeet taken them at
their word, but few of these braggart heroes might have survived for any
further boasting.
On the following morning, Captain Bonneville purchased a supply of
buffalo meat from his braggadocio friends; who, with all their vaporing,
were in fact a very forlorn horde, destitute of firearms, and of
almost everything that constitutes riches in savage life. The bargain
concluded, the Bannacks set off for their village, which was situated,
they said, at the mouth of the Portneuf, and Captain Bonneville and his
companions shaped their course toward Snake River.
Arrived on the banks of that river, he found it rapid and boisterous,
but not too deep to be forded. In traversing it, however, one of the
horses was swept suddenly from his footing, and his rider was flung from
the saddle into the midst of the stream. Both horse and horseman were
extricated without any damage, excepting that the latter was completely
drenched, so that it was necessary to kindle a fire to dry him. While
they were thus occupied, one of the party looking up, perceived
an Indian scout cautiously reconnoitring them from the summit of a
neighboring hill. The moment he found himself discovered, he disappeared
behind the hill. From his furtive movements, Captain Bonneville
suspected him to be a scout from the Blackfeet camp, and that he had
gone to report what he had seen to his companions. It would not do
to loiter in such a neighborhood, so the kindling of the fire was
abandoned, the drenched horseman mounted in dripping condition, and the
little band pushed forward directly into the plain, going at a smart
pace, until they had gained a considerable distance from the place of
supposed danger. Here encamping for the night, in the midst of abundance
of sage, or wormwood, which afforded fodder for their horses, they
kindled a huge fire for the benefit of their damp comrade, and then
proceeded to prepare a sumptuous supper of buffalo humps and ribs, and
other choice bits, which they had brought with them. After a hearty
repast, relished with an appetite unknown to city epicures, they
stretched themselves upon their couches of skins, and under the starry
canopy of heaven, enjoyed the sound and sweet sleep of hardy and
well-fed mountaineers.
They continued on their journey for several days, without any incident
worthy of notice, and on the 19th of November, came upon traces of the
party of which they were in search; such as burned patches of prairie,
and deserted camping grounds. All these were carefully examined, to
discover by their freshness or antiquity the probable time that
the trappers had left them; at length, after much wandering and
investigating, they came upon the regular trail of the hunting party,
which led into the mountains, and following it up briskly, came about
two o'clock in the afternoon of the 20th, upon the encampment of
Hodgkiss and his band of free trappers, in the bosom of a mountain
valley.
It will be recollected that these free trappers, who were masters
of themselves and their movements, had refused to accompany Captain
Bonneville back to Green River in the preceding month of July,
preferring to trap about the upper waters of the Salmon River,
where they expected to find plenty of beaver, and a less dangerous
neighborhood. Their hunt had not been very successful. They had
penetrated the great range of mountains among which some of the upper
branches of Salmon River take their rise, but had become so entangled
among immense and almost impassable barricades of fallen pines, and so
impeded by tremendous precipices, that a great part of their season had
been wasted among these mountains. At one time, they had made their way
through them, and reached the Boisee River; but meeting with a band of
Bannack Indians, from whom they apprehended hostilities, they had again
taken shelter among the mountains, where they were found by Captain
Bonneville. In the neighborhood of their encampment, the captain had the
good fortune to meet with a family of those wanderers of the mountains,
emphatically called "les dignes de pitie," or Poordevil Indians. These,
however, appear to have forfeited the title, for they had with them
a fine lot of skins of beaver, elk, deer, and mountain sheep. These,
Captain Bonneville purchased from them at a fair valuation, and sent
them off astonished at their own wealth, and no doubt objects of envy to
all their pitiful tribe.
Being now reinforced by Hodgkiss and his band of free trappers, Captain
Bonneville put himself at the head of the united parties, and set out
to rejoin those he had recently left at the Beer Spring, that they might
all go into winter quarters on Snake River. On his route, he encountered many heavy falls of snow, which melted almost immediately, so as not to impede his march, and on the 4th of December, he found his other party, encamped at the very place where he had partaken in the buffalo hunt with the Bannacks.
That braggart horde was encamped but about three miles off, and were
just then in high glee and festivity, and more swaggering than ever,
celebrating a prodigious victory. It appeared that a party of their
braves being out on a hunting excursion, discovered a band of Blackfeet
moving, as they thought, to surprise their hunting camp. The Bannacks
immediately posted themselves on each side of a dark ravine, through
which the enemy must pass, and, just as they were entangled in the midst
of it, attacked them with great fury. The Blackfeet, struck with sudden
panic, threw off their buffalo robes and fled, leaving one of their
warriors dead on the spot. The victors eagerly gathered up the spoils;
but their greatest prize was the scalp of the Blackfoot brave. This they
bore off in triumph to their village, where it had ever since been an
object of the greatest exultation and rejoicing. It had been elevated
upon a pole in the centre of the village, where the warriors had
celebrated the scalp dance round it, with war feasts, war songs, and
warlike harangues. It had then been given up to the women and boys; who
had paraded it up and down the village with shouts and chants and antic
dances; occasionally saluting it with all kinds of taunts, invectives,
and revilings.
The Blackfeet, in this affair, do not appear to have acted up to the
character which has rendered them objects of such terror. Indeed,
their conduct in war, to the inexperienced observer, is full of
inconsistencies; at one time they are headlong in courage, and heedless
of danger; at another time cautious almost to cowardice. To understand
these apparent incongruities, one must know their principles of warfare.
A war party, however triumphant, if they lose a warrior in the fight,
bring back a cause of mourning to their people, which casts a shade over
the glory of their achievement. Hence, the Indian is often less fierce
and reckless in general battle, than he is in a private brawl; and
the chiefs are checked in their boldest undertakings by the fear of
sacrificing their warriors.
This peculiarity is not confined to the Blackfeet. Among the Osages,
says Captain Bonneville, when a warrior falls in battle, his comrades,
though they may have fought with consummate valor, and won a glorious
victory, will leave their arms upon the field of battle, and returning
home with dejected countenances, will halt without the encampment, and
wait until the relatives of the slain come forth and invite them to
mingle again with their people.
