Chapter 8

Plans for the winter Salmon River Abundance of salmon west of the

mountains New arrangements Caches Cerre's detachment Movements

in Fontenelle's camp Departure of the Blackfeet Their

fortunes Wind Mountain streams Buckeye, the Delaware hunter, and

the grizzly bear Bones of murdered travellers Visit to Pierre's

Hole Traces of the battle Nez Perce Indians Arrival at Salmon

River

THE INFORMATION derived from the free trappers determined Captain

Bonneville as to his further movements. He learned that in the

Green River valley the winters were severe, the snow frequently

falling to the depth of several feet; and that there was no good

wintering ground in the neighborhood. The upper part of Salmon

River was represented as far more eligible, besides being in an

excellent beaver country; and thither the captain resolved to

bend his course.

The Salmon River is one of the upper branches of the Oregon or

Columbia; and takes its rise from various sources, among a group

of mountains to the northwest of the Wind River chain. It owes

its name to the immense shoals of salmon which ascend it in the

months of September and October. The salmon on the west side of

the Rocky Mountains are, like the buffalo on the eastern plains,

vast migratory supplies for the wants of man, that come and go

with the seasons. As the buffalo in countless throngs find their

certain way in the transient pasturage on the prairies, along the

fresh banks of the rivers, and up every valley and green defile

of the mountains, so the salmon, at their allotted seasons,

regulated by a sublime and all-seeing Providence, swarm in

myriads up the great rivers, and find their way up their main

branches, and into the minutest tributory streams; so as to

pervade the great arid plains, and to penetrate even among barren

mountains. Thus wandering tribes are fed in the desert places of

the wilderness, where there is no herbage for the animals of the

chase, and where, but for these periodical supplies, it would be

impossible for man to subsist.

The rapid currents of the rivers which run into the Pacific

render the ascent of them very exhausting to the salmon. When the

fish first run up the rivers, they are fat and in fine order. The

struggle against impetuous streams and frequent rapids gradually

renders them thin and weak, and great numbers are seen floating

down the rivers on their backs. As the season advances and the

water becomes chilled, they are flung in myriads on the shores,

where the wolves and bears assemble to banquet on them. Often

they rot in such quantities along the river banks as to taint the

atmosphere. They are commonly from two to three feet long.

Captain Bonneville now made his arrangements for the autumn and

the winter. The nature of the country through which he was about

to travel rendered it impossible to proceed with wagons. He had

more goods and supplies of various kinds, also, than were

required for present purposes, or than could be conveniently

transported on horseback; aided, therefore, by a few confidential

men, he made caches, or secret pits, during the night, when all

the rest of the camp were asleep, and in these deposited the

superfluous effects, together with the wagons. All traces of the

caches were then carefully obliterated. This is a common

expedient with the traders and trappers of the mountains. Having

no established posts and magazines, they make these caches or

deposits at certain points, whither they repair, occasionally,

for supplies. It is an expedient derived from the wandering

tribes of Indians.

Many of the horses were still so weak and lame, as to be unfit

for a long scramble through the mountains. These were collected

into one cavalcade, and given in charge to an experienced

trapper, of the name of Matthieu. He was to proceed westward,

with a brigade of trappers, to Bear River; a stream to the west

of the Green River or Colorado, where there was good pasturage

for the horses. In this neighborhood it was expected he would

meet the Shoshonie villages or bands, on their yearly migrations,

with whom he was to trade for peltries and provisions. After he

had traded with these people, finished his trapping, and

recruited the strength of the horses, he was to proceed to Salmon

River and rejoin Captain Bonneville, who intended to fix his

quarters there for the winter.

While these arrangements were in progress in the camp of Captain

Bonneville, there was a sudden bustle and stir in the camp of

Fontenelle. One of the partners of the American Fur Company had

arrived, in all haste, from the rendezvous at Pierre's Hole, in

quest of the supplies. The competition between the two rival

companies was just now at its height, and prosecuted with unusual

zeal. The tramontane concerns of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company

were managed by two resident partners, Fitzpatrick and Bridger;

those of the American Fur Company, by Vanderburgh and Dripps. The

latter were ignorant of the mountain regions, but trusted to make

up by vigilance and activity for their want of knowledge of the

country.

Fitzpatrick, an experienced trader and trapper, knew the evils of

competition in the same hunting grounds, and had proposed that

the two companies should divide the country, so as to hunt in

different directions: this proposition being rejected, he had

exerted himself to get first into the field. His exertions, as

have already been shown, were effectual. The early arrival of

Sublette, with supplies, had enabled the various brigades of the

Rocky Mountain Company to start off to their respective hunting

grounds. Fitzpatrick himself, with his associate, Bridger, had

pushed off with a strong party of trappers, for a prime beaver

country to the north-northwest.

This had put Vanderburgh upon his mettle. He had hastened on to

meet Fontenelle. Finding him at his camp in Green River valley,

he immediately furnished himself with the supplies; put himself

at the head of the free trappers and Delawares, and set off with

all speed, determined to follow hard upon the heels of

Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Of the adventures of these parties among

the mountains, and the disastrous effects of their competition,

we shall have occasion to treat in a future chapter.

Fontenelle having now delivered his supplies and accomplished his

errand, struck his tents and set off on his return to the

Yellowstone. Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, remained

alone in the Green River valley; and their situation might have

been perilous, had the Blackfeet band still lingered in the

vicinity. Those marauders, however, had been dismayed at finding

so many resolute and well-appointed parties of white men in the

neighborhood. They had, therefore, abandoned this part of the

country, passing over the headwaters of the Green River, and

bending their course towards the Yellowstone. Misfortune pursued

them. Their route lay through the country of their deadly

enemies, the Crows. In the Wind River valley, which lies east of

the mountains, they were encountered by a powerful war party of

that tribe, and completely put to rout. Forty of them were

killed, many of their women and children captured, and the

scattered fugitives hunted like wild beasts until they were

completely chased out of the Crow country.

On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his camp, and

set out on his route for Salmon River. His baggage was arranged

in packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse; one being disposed on

each side of the animal and one on the top; the three forming a

load of from one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty

pounds. This is the trappers' style of loading pack-horses; his

men, however, were inexpert at adjusting the packs, which were

prone to get loose and slip off, so that it was necessary to keep

a rear-guard to assist in reloading. A few days' experience,

however, brought them into proper training.

Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, overlooked to

the right by the lofty peaks of the Wind River Mountains. From

bright little lakes and fountain-heads of this remarkable bed of

mountains poured forth the tributary streams of the Seeds-ke-dee.

Some came rushing down gullies and ravines; others tumbled in

crystal cascades from inaccessible clefts and rocks, and others

winding their way in rapid and pellucid currents across the

valley, to throw themselves into the main river. So transparent

were these waters that the trout with which they abounded could

be seen gliding about as if in the air; and their pebbly beds

were distinctly visible at the depth of many feet. This beautiful

and diaphanous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for

a long time after they have mingled their waters and swollen into

important rivers.

Issuing from the upper part of the valley, Captain Bonneville

continued to the east-northeast, across rough and lofty ridges,

and deep rocky defiles, extremely fatiguing both to man and

horse. Among his hunters was a Delaware Indian who had remained

faithful to him. His name was Buckeye. He had often prided

himself on his skill and success in coping with the grizzly bear,

that terror of the hunters. Though crippled in the left arm, he

declared he had no hesitation to close with a wounded bear, and

attack him with a sword. If armed with a rifle, he was willing to

brave the animal when in full force and fury. He had twice an

opportunity of proving his prowess, in the course of this

mountain journey, and was each time successful. His mode was to

seat himself upon the ground, with his rifle cocked and resting

on his lame arm. Thus prepared, he would await the approach of

the bear with perfect coolness, nor pull trigger until he was

close at hand. In each instance, he laid the monster dead upon

the spot.

A march of three or four days, through savage and lonely scenes,

brought Captain Bonneville to the fatal defile of Jackson's Hole,

where poor More and Foy had been surprised and murdered by the

Blackfeet. The feelings of the captain were shocked at beholding

the bones of these unfortunate young men bleaching among the

rocks; and he caused them to be decently interred.

On the 3d of September he arrived on the summit of a mountain

which commanded a full view of the eventful valley of Pierre's

Hole; whence he could trace the winding of its stream through

green meadows, and forests of willow and cotton-wood, and have a

prospect, between distant mountains, of the lava plains of Snake

River, dimly spread forth like a sleeping ocean below.

After enjoying this magnificent prospect, he descended into the

valley, and visited the scenes of the late desperate conflict.

There were the remains of the rude fortress in the swamp,

shattered by rifle shot, and strewed with the mingled bones of

savages and horses. There was the late populous and noisy

rendezvous, with the traces of trappers' camps and Indian lodges;

but their fires were extinguished, the motley assemblage of

trappers and hunters, white traders and Indian braves, had all

dispersed to different points of the wilderness, and the valley

had relapsed into its pristine solitude and silence.

That night the captain encamped upon the battle ground; the next

day he resumed his toilsome peregrinations through the mountains.

For upwards of two weeks he continued his painful march; both men

and horses suffering excessively at times from hunger and thirst.

At length, on the 19th of September, he reached the upper waters

of Salmon River.

The weather was cold, and there were symptoms of an impending

storm. The night set in, but Buckeye, the Delaware Indian, was

missing. He had left the party early in the morning, to hunt by

himself, according to his custom. Fears were entertained lest he

should lose his way and become bewildered in tempestuous weather.

These fears increased on the following morning, when a violent

snow-storm came on, which soon covered the earth to the depth of

several inches. Captain Bonneville immediately encamped, and sent

out scouts in every direction. After some search Buckeye was

discovered, quietly seated at a considerable distance in the

rear, waiting the expected approach of the party, not knowing

that they had passed, the snow having covered their trail.

On the ensuing morning they resumed their march at an early hour,

but had not proceeded far when the hunters, who were beating up

the country in the advance, came galloping back, making signals

to encamp, and crying Indians! Indians!

Captain Bonneville immediately struck into a skirt of wood and

prepared for action. The savages were now seen trooping over the

hills in great numbers. One of them left the main body and came

forward singly, making signals of peace. He announced them as a

band of Nez Perces or Pierced-nose Indians, friendly to the

whites, whereupon an invitation was returned by Captain

Bonneville for them to come and encamp with him. They halted for

a short time to make their toilette, an operation as important

with an Indian warrior as with a fashionable beauty. This done,

they arranged themselves in martial style, the chiefs leading the

van, the braves following in a long line, painted and decorated,

and topped off with fluttering plumes. In this way they advanced,

shouting and singing, firing off their fusees, and clashing their

shields. The two parties encamped hard by each other. The Nez

Perces were on a hunting expedition, but had been almost famished

on their march. They had no provisions left but a few dried

salmon, yet finding the white men equally in want, they

generously offered to share even this meager pittance, and

frequently repeated the offer, with an earnestness that left no

doubt of their sincerity. Their generosity won the heart of

Captain Bonneville, and produced the most cordial good will on

the part of his men. For two days that the parties remained in

company, the most amicable intercourse prevailed, and they parted

the best of friends. Captain Bonneville detached a few men, under

Mr. Cerre, an able leader, to accompany the Nez Perces on their

hunting expedition, and to trade with them for meat for the

winter's supply. After this, he proceeded down the river, about

five miles below the forks, when he came to a halt on the 26th of

September, to establish his winter quarters.