Breaking up of winter quarters—Move to Green River—A trapper and his rifle—An arrival in camp—A free trapper and his squaw in distress—Story of a Blackfoot belle.
THE winter was now breaking up, the snows were melted, from the hills,
and from the lower parts of the mountains, and the time for decamping
had arrived. Captain Bonneville dispatched a party to the caches, who
brought away all the effects concealed there, and on the 1st of April
(1835), the camp was broken up, and every one on the move. The white
men and their allies, the Eutaws and Shoshonies, parted with many
regrets and sincere expressions of good-will; for their intercourse
throughout the winter had been of the most friendly kind.
Captain Bonneville and his party passed by Ham's Fork, and reached the
Colorado, or Green River, without accident, on the banks of which they
remained during the residue of the spring. During this time, they were
conscious that a band of hostile Indians were hovering about their
vicinity, watching for an opportunity to slay or steal; but the vigilant
precautions of Captain Bonneville baffled all their manoeuvres. In such
dangerous times, the experienced mountaineer is never without his rifle
even in camp. On going from lodge to lodge to visit his comrades, he
takes it with him. On seating himself in a lodge, he lays it beside him,
ready to be snatched up; when he goes out, he takes it up as regularly
as a citizen would his walking-staff. His rifle is his constant friend
and protector.
On the 10th of June, the party was a little to the east of the Wind
River Mountains, where they halted for a time in excellent pasturage, to
give their horses a chance to recruit their strength for a long journey;
for it was Captain Bonneville's intention to shape his course to the
settlements; having already been detained by the complication of his
duties, and by various losses and impediments, far beyond the time
specified in his leave of absence.
While the party was thus reposing in the neighborhood of the Wind River
Mountains, a solitary free trapper rode one day into the camp, and
accosted Captain Bonneville. He belonged, he said, to a party of thirty
hunters, who had just passed through the neighborhood, but whom he had
abandoned in consequence of their ill treatment of a brother trapper;
whom they had cast off from their party, and left with his bag and
baggage, and an Indian wife into the bargain, in the midst of a desolate
prairie. The horseman gave a piteous account of the situation of this
helpless pair, and solicited the loan of horses to bring them and their
effects to the camp.
The captain was not a man to refuse assistance to any one in distress,
especially when there was a woman in the case; horses were immediately
dispatched, with an escort, to aid the unfortunate couple. The next day
they made their appearance with all their effects; the man, a stalwart
mountaineer, with a peculiarly game look; the woman, a young Blackfoot
beauty, arrayed in the trappings and trinketry of a free trapper's
bride.
Finding the woman to be quick-witted and communicative, Captain
Bonneville entered into conversation with her, and obtained from
her many particulars concerning the habits and customs of her tribe;
especially their wars and huntings. They pride themselves upon being the
"best legs of the mountains," and hunt the buffalo on foot. This is done
in spring time, when the frosts have thawed and the ground is soft. The
heavy buffaloes then sink over their hoofs at every step, and are easily
overtaken by the Blackfeet, whose fleet steps press lightly on the
surface. It is said, however, that the buffaloes on the Pacific side
of the Rocky Mountains are fleeter and more active than on the Atlantic
side; those upon the plains of the Columbia can scarcely be overtaken by
a horse that would outstrip the same animal in the neighborhood of the
Platte, the usual hunting ground of the Blackfeet. In the course of
further conversation, Captain Bonneville drew from the Indian woman her
whole story; which gave a picture of savage life, and of the drudgery
and hardships to which an Indian wife is subject.
"I was the wife," said she, "of a Blackfoot warrior, and I served
him faithfully. Who was so well served as he? Whose lodge was so well
provided, or kept so clean? I brought wood in the morning, and placed
water always at hand. I watched for his coming; and he found his meat
cooked and ready. If he rose to go forth, there was nothing to delay
him. I searched the thought that was in his heart, to save him the
trouble of speaking. When I went abroad on errands for him, the chiefs
and warriors smiled upon me, and the young braves spoke soft things,
in secret; but my feet were in the straight path, and my eyes could see
nothing but him.
"When he went out to hunt, or to war, who aided to equip him, but I?
When he returned, I met him at the door; I took his gun; and he entered
without further thought. While he sat and smoked, I unloaded his horses;
tied them to the stakes, brought in their loads, and was quickly at his
feet. If his moccasins were wet I took them off and put on others which
were dry and warm. I dressed all the skins he had taken in the chase.
He could never say to me, why is it not done? He hunted the deer, the
antelope, and the buffalo, and he watched for the enemy. Everything else
was done by me. When our people moved their camp, he mounted his horse
and rode away; free as though he had fallen from the skies. He had
nothing to do with the labor of the camp; it was I that packed the
horses and led them on the journey. When we halted in the evening,
and he sat with the other braves and smoked, it was I that pitched his
lodge; and when he came to eat and sleep, his supper and his bed were
ready.
"I served him faithfully; and what was my reward? A cloud was always on
his brow, and sharp lightning on his tongue. I was his dog; and not his
wife.
"Who was it that scarred and bruised me? It was he. My brother saw how
I was treated. His heart was big for me. He begged me to leave my tyrant
and fly. Where could I go? If retaken, who would protect me? My brother
was not a chief; he could not save me from blows and wounds, perhaps
death. At length I was persuaded. I followed my brother from the
village. He pointed away to the Nez Perces, and bade me go and live in
peace among them. We parted. On the third day I saw the lodges of the
Nez Perces before me. I paused for a moment, and had no heart to go on;
but my horse neighed, and I took it as a good sign, and suffered him to
gallop forward. In a little while I was in the midst of the lodges. As
I sat silent on my horse, the people gathered round me, and inquired
whence I came. I told my story. A chief now wrapped his blanket close
around him, and bade me dismount. I obeyed. He took my horse to lead him
away. My heart grew small within me. I felt, on parting with my horse,
as if my last friend was gone. I had no words, and my eyes were dry. As
he led off my horse a young brave stepped forward. 'Are you a chief of
the people?' cried he. 'Do we listen to you in council, and follow
you in battle? Behold! a stranger flies to our camp from the dogs of
Blackfeet, and asks protection. Let shame cover your face! The stranger
is a woman, and alone. If she were a warrior, or had a warrior at her
side, your heart would not be big enough to take her horse. But he is
yours. By right of war you may claim him; but look!'—his bow was
drawn, and the arrow ready!—'you never shall cross his back!' The arrow
pierced the heart of the horse, and he fell dead.
"An old woman said she would be my mother. She led me to her lodge; my
heart was thawed by her kindness, and my eyes burst forth with tears;
like the frozen fountains in springtime. She never changed; but as the
days passed away, was still a mother to me. The people were loud in
praise of the young brave, and the chief was ashamed. I lived in peace.
"A party of trappers came to the village, and one of them took me for
his wife. This is he. I am very happy; he treats me with kindness, and
I have taught him the language of my people. As we were travelling this
way, some of the Blackfeet warriors beset us, and carried off the horses
of the party. We followed, and my husband held a parley with them. The
guns were laid down, and the pipe was lighted; but some of the white
men attempted to seize the horses by force, and then a battle began.
The snow was deep, the white men sank into it at every step; but the
red men, with their snow-shoes, passed over the surface like birds, and
drove off many of the horses in sight of their owners. With those that
remained we resumed our journey. At length words took place between the
leader of the party and my husband. He took away our horses, which had
escaped in the battle, and turned us from his camp. My husband had one
good friend among the trappers. That is he (pointing to the man who had
asked assistance for them). He is a good man. His heart is big. When he
came in from hunting, and found that we had been driven away, he gave up
all his wages, and followed us, that he might speak good words for us to
the white captain."
