Tuesday, August 23.—Last night was the first that we were on guard. The first relief was Hedges and Langford, the second Washburn and Hauser. Everything went well. At 8 a.m. to-day we broke camp. Some delay occurring in packing our horses, Lieutenant Doane and the escort went ahead, and we did not again see them until we reached our night camp.
We traveled down Trail creek and over a spur of the mountain to the valley of the Yellowstone, which we followed up eight miles to our present camp. Along on our right in passing up the valley was a vast natural pile of basaltic rock, perpendicular, a part of which had been overthrown, showing transverse seams in the rock. Away at the right in the highest range bordering the valley was Pyramid mountain, itself a snow-capped peak; and further up the range was a long ridge covered with deep snow. As we passed Pyramid mountain a cloud descended upon it, casting its gloomy shadow over the adjacent peaks and bursting in a grand storm. These magnificent changes in mountain scenery occasioned by light and shade during one of these terrific tempests, with all the incidental accompaniments of thunder, lightning, rain, snow and hail, afford the most awe-inspiring exhibition in nature. As I write, another grand storm, which does not extend to our camp, has broken out on Emigrant peak, which at one moment is completely obscured in darkness; at the next, perhaps, brilliant with light; all its gorges, recesses, seams and cañons illuminated; these fade away into dim twilight, broken by a terrific flash, and, echoing to successive peals,
“* * * the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder” in innumerable reverberations.
On the left of the valley the foot hills were mottled with a carpet of beautiful, maroon-colored, delicately-tinted verdure, and towering above all rose peak on peak of the snow-capped mountains.
To-day we saw our first Indians as we descended into the valley of the Yellowstone. They came down from the east side of the valley, over the foot hills, to the edge of the plateau overlooking the bottom lands of the river, and there conspicuously displayed themselves for a time to engage our attention. As we passed by them up the valley they moved down to where their ponies were hobbled. Two of our party, Hauser and Stickney, had dropped behind and passed towards the north to get a shot at an antelope; and when they came up they reported that, while we were observing the Indians on the plateau across the river, there were one hundred or more of them watching us from behind a high butte as our pack-train passed up the valley. As soon as they observed Hauser and Stickney coming up nearly behind them, they wheeled their horses and disappeared down the other side of the butte.1 This early admonition of our exposure to hostile attack, and liability to be robbed of everything, and compelled on foot and without provisions to retrace our steps, has been the subject of discussion in our camp to-night, and has renewed in our party the determination to abate nothing of our vigilance, and keep in a condition of constant preparation.
On Guard.
Valley of the Yellowstone.
With our long-range rifles and plenty of ammunition, we can stand off 200 or 300 of them, with their less efficient weapons, if we don’t let them sneak up upon us in the night. If we encounter more than that number, then what? The odds will be against us that they will “rub us out,” as Jim Stuart says.
Jake Smith has sent the first demoralizing shot into the camp by announcing that he doesn’t think there is any necessity for standing guard. Jake is the only one of our party who shows some sign of baldness, and he probably thinks that his own scalp is not worth the taking by the Indians.
Did we act wisely in permitting him to join our party at the last moment before leaving Helena? One careless man, no less than one who is easily discouraged by difficulties, will frequently demoralize an entire company. I think we have now taken all possible precautions for our safety, but our numbers are few; and for me to say that I am not in hourly dread of the Indians when they appear in large force, would be a braggart boast.
Mr. Everts was taken sick this afternoon. All day we have had a cool breeze and a few light showers, clearing off from time to time, revealing the mountains opposite us covered from their summits half way down with the newly fallen snow, and light clouds floating just below over the foot hills. Until we reached the open valley of the Yellowstone our route was over a narrow trail, from which the stream, Trail creek, takes its name. The mountains opposite the point where we entered the valley are rugged, grand, picturesque and immense by turns, and colored by nature with a thousand gorgeous hues. We have traveled all this day amid this stupendous variety of landscape until we have at length reached the western shore of that vast and solitary river which is to guide us to the theatre of our explorations. From the “lay of the land” I should judge that our camp to-night is thirty-five to forty miles above the point where Captain William Clark, of the famous Lewis and Clark expedition, embarked with his party in July, 1806, in two cottonwood canoes bound together with buffalo thongs, on his return to the states. It was from that point also that some six hundred residents of Montana embarked for a trip to the states, in forty-two flat boats, in the autumn of 1865.2 We learn from Mr. Boteler that there are some twenty-five lodges of Crow Indians up the valley.3
1On August 23d General Washburn wrote: “Indians of the Crow tribe.”
2Near where Livingston is now located.
3Lieutenant Doane in his report to the War Department under date of August 24th writes: “Guards were established here during the night, as there were signs of a party of Indians on the trail ahead of us, all the members of the party taking their tours of this duty, and using in addition the various precautions of lariats, hobbles, etc., not to be neglected while traveling through this country.”
