THE ADVENTURES of the detachment of ten are the first in order. These trappers,
when they separated from Captain Bonneville at the place where the furs were
embarked, proceeded to the foot of the Bighorn Mountain, and having encamped, one
of them mounted his mule and went out to set his trap in a neighboring stream. He had
not proceeded far when his steed came to a full stop. The trapper kicked and cudgelled,
but to every blow and kick the mule snorted and kicked up, but still refused to budge an
inch. The rider now cast his eyes warily around in search of some cause for this demur,
when, to his dismay, he discovered an Indian fort within gunshot distance, lowering
through the twilight. In a twinkling he wheeled about; his mule now seemed as eager to
get on as himself, and in a few moments brought him, clattering with his traps, among
his comrades. He was jeered at for his alacrity in retreating; his report was treated as a
false alarm; his brother trappers contented themselves with reconnoitring the fort at a
distance, and pronounced that it was deserted.
As night set in, the usual precaution, enjoined by Captain Bonneville on his men, was
observed. The horses were brought in and tied, and a guard stationed over them. This
done, the men wrapped themselves in their blankets, stretched themselves before the
fire, and being fatigued with a long day's march, and gorged with a hearty supper, were
soon in a profound sleep.
The camp fires gradually died away; all was dark and silent; the sentinel stationed to
watch the horses had marched as far, and supped as heartily as any of his
companions, and while they snored, he began to nod at his post. After a time, a low
trampling noise reached his ear. He half opened his closing eyes, and beheld two or
three elks moving about the lodges, picking, and smelling, and grazing here and there.
The sight of elk within the purlieus of the camp caused some little surprise; but having
had his supper, he cared not for elk meat, and, suffering them to graze about
unmolested, soon relapsed into a doze.
Suddenly, before daybreak, a discharge of firearms, and a struggle and tramp of
horses, made every one start to his feet. The first move was to secure the horses.
Some were gone; others were struggling, and kicking, and trembling, for there was a
horrible uproar of whoops, and yells, and firearms. Several trappers stole quietly from
the camp, and succeeded in driving in the horses which had broken away; the rest were
tethered still more strongly. A breastwork was thrown up of saddles, baggage, and
camp furniture, and all hands waited anxiously for daylight. The Indians, in the
meantime, collected on a neighboring height, kept up the most horrible clamor, in hopes
of striking a panic into the camp, or frightening off the horses. When the day dawned,
the trappers attacked them briskly and drove them to some distance. A desultory fire
was kept up for an hour, when the Indians, seeing nothing was to be gained, gave up
the contest and retired. They proved to be a war party of Blackfeet, who, while in search
of the Crow tribe, had fallen upon the trail of Captain Bonneville on the Popo Agie, and
dogged him to the Bighorn; but had been completely baffled by his vigilance. They had
then waylaid the present detachment, and were actually housed in perfect silence within
their fort, when the mule of the trapper made such a dead point.
The savages went off uttering the wildest denunciations of hostility, mingled with opprobrious terms in broken English, and gesticulations of the most insulting kind.
In this melee, one white man was wounded, and two horses were killed. On preparing
the morning's meal, however, a number of cups, knives, and other articles were
missing, which had, doubtless, been carried off by the fictitious elk, during the slumber
of the very sagacious sentinel.
As the Indians had gone off in the direction which the trappers had intended to travel,
the latter changed their route, and pushed forward rapidly through the "Bad Pass," nor
halted until night; when, supposing themselves out of the reach of the enemy, they
contented themselves with tying up their horses and posting a guard. They had scarce
laid down to sleep, when a dog strayed into the camp with a small pack of moccasons
tied upon his back; for dogs are made to carry burdens among the Indians. The
sentinel, more knowing than he of the preceding night, awoke his companions and
reported the circumstance. It was evident that Indians were at hand. All were instantly
at work; a strong pen was soon constructed for the horses, after completing which, they
resumed their slumbers with the composure of men long inured to dangers.
In the next night, the prowling of dogs about the camp, and various suspicious noises,
showed that Indians were still hovering about them. Hurrying on by long marches, they
at length fell upon a trail, which, with the experienced eye of veteran woodmen, they
soon discovered to be that of the party of trappers detached by Captain Bonneville
when on his march, and which they were sent to join. They likewise ascertained from
various signs, that this party had suffered some maltreatment from the Indians. They
now pursued the trail with intense anxiety; it carried them to the banks of the stream
called the Gray Bull, and down along its course, until they came to where it empties into
the Horn River. Here, to their great joy, they discovered the comrades of whom they
were in search, all strongly fortified, and in a state of great watchfulness and anxiety.
We now take up the adventures of this first detachment of trappers. These men, after
parting with the main body under Captain Bonneville, had proceeded slowly for several
days up the course of the river, trapping beaver as they went. One morning, as they
were about to visit their traps, one of the camp-keepers pointed to a fine elk, grazing at
a distance, and requested them to shoot it. Three of the trappers started off for the
purpose. In passing a thicket, they were fired upon by some savages in ambush, and at
the same time, the pretended elk, throwing off his hide and his horn, started forth an
Indian warrior.
One of the three trappers had been brought down by the volley; the others fled to the camp, and all hands, seizing up whatever they could carry off, retreated to a small island in the river, and took refuge among the willows. Here they were soon joined by their comrade who had fallen, but who had merely been wounded in the neck.
In the meantime the Indians took possession of the deserted camp, with all the traps,
accoutrements, and horses. While they were busy among the spoils, a solitary trapper,
who had been absent at his work, came sauntering to the camp with his traps on his
back. He had approached near by, when an Indian came forward and motioned him to
keep away; at the same moment, he was perceived by his comrades on the island, and
warned of his danger with loud cries. The poor fellow stood for a moment, bewildered
and aghast, then dropping his traps, wheeled and made off at full speed, quickened by
a sportive volley which the Indians rattled after him.
In high good humor with their easy triumph, the savages now formed a circle round the
fire and performed a war dance, with the unlucky trappers for rueful spectators. This
done, emboldened by what they considered cowardice on the part of the white men,
they neglected their usual mode of bush-fighting, and advanced openly within twenty
paces of the willows. A sharp volley from the trappers brought them to a sudden halt,
and laid three of them breathless. The chief, who had stationed himself on an eminence
to direct all the movements of his people, seeing three of his warriors laid low, ordered
the rest to retire. They immediately did so, and the whole band soon disappeared
behind a point of woods, carrying off with them the horses, traps, and the greater part of
the baggage.
It was just after this misfortune that the party of ten men discovered this forlorn band of
trappers in a fortress, which they had thrown up after their disaster. They were so
perfectly dismayed, that they could not be induced even to go in quest of their traps,
which they had set in a neighboring stream. The two parties now joined their forces,
and made their way, without further misfortune, to the rendezvous.
Captain Bonneville perceived from the reports of these parties, as well as from what he had observed himself in his recent march, that he was in a neighborhood teeming with danger. Two wandering Snake Indians, also, who visited the camp, assured him that there were two large bands of Crows marching rapidly upon him. He broke up his encampment, therefore, on the 1st of September, made his way to the south, across the Littlehorn Mountain, until he reached Wind River, and then turning westward, moved slowly up the banks of that stream, giving time for his men to trap as he proceeded. As it was not in the plan of the present hunting campaigns to go near the caches on Green River, and as the trappers were in want of traps to replace those they had lost, Captain Bonneville undertook to visit the caches, and procure a supply. To accompany him in this hazardous expedition, which would take him through the defiles of the Wind River Mountains, and up the Green River valley, he took but three men; the main party were to continue on trapping up toward the head of Wind River, near which he was to rejoin them, just about the place where that stream issues from the mountains. We shall accompany the captain on his adventurous errand.