Chapter 28

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.