Chapter 27

27.

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.