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.