Astoria 1

Astoria
**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Astoria, by Washinton Irving** #3 in our
series by Washinton Irving

Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!

Please take a look at the important information in this header.

We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an electronic
path open for the next readers. Do not remove this.

**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*

Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and further

information is included below. We need your donations.

ASTORIA; OR, ANECDOTES OF AN ENTERPRISE BEYOND THE

ROCKY MOUNTAINS

BY WASHINGTON IRVING

July, 1998 [Etext #1371]

**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Astoria, by Washinton Irving**

*****This file should be named stria10.txt or stria10.zip******

Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, stria11.txt

VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, stria10a.txt
Information about Project Gutenberg 2

Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, all of
which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a copyright
notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books in compliance
with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise.

We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance of the
official release dates, for time for better editing.

Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till midnight of the last
day of the month of any such announcement. The official release date of all
Project Gutenberg Etexts is at Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the
stated month. A preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion,
comment and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an
up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes in the first
week of the next month. Since our ftp program has a bug in it that
scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a look at the file size will have to
do, but we will try to see a new copy has at least one byte more or less.

Information about Project Gutenberg

(one page)

We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The fifty
hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take to get any etext
selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright searched and analyzed, the
copyright letters written, etc. This projected audience is one hundred
million readers. If our value per text is nominally estimated at one dollar
then we produce $2 million dollars per hour this year as we release
thirty−two text files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of
1500+ If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away.

The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext Files by
the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] This is ten
thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, which is only 10% of
Information about Project Gutenberg 3

the present number of computer users. 2001 should have at least twice as
many computer users as that, so it will require us reaching less than 5% of
the users in 2001.

We need your donations more than ever!

All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are tax

deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie− Mellon
University).

For these and other matters, please mail to:

Project Gutenberg P. O. Box 2782 Champaign, IL 61825

When all other email fails try our Executive Director: Michael S. Hart
<[email protected]>

We would prefer to send you this information by email (Internet, Bitnet,

Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).

****** If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please FTP directly to
the Project Gutenberg archives: [Mac users, do NOT point and click. .
.type]

ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu
login: anonymous
password: your@login
cd etext/etext90 through /etext96
or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information]
dir [to see files]
get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
GET INDEX?00.GUT
for a list of books
and
GET NEW GUT for general information
and
MGET GUT* for newsletters.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 4

**

Information prepared by the Project

Gutenberg legal advisor
** (Three Pages)

***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN

ETEXTS**START*** Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You
know: lawyers. They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong
with your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from someone other
than us, and even if what's wrong is not our fault. So, among other things,
this "Small Print!" statement disclaims most of our liability to you. It also
tells you how you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to.

*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT

By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG−tm etext,

you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept this "Small Print!"
statement. If you do not, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you
paid for this etext by sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the
person you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical medium
(such as a disk), you must return it with your request.

ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG−TM ETEXTS

This PROJECT GUTENBERG−tm etext, like most PROJECT

GUTENBERG− tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by
Professor Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
Carnegie−Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other things, this
means that no one owns a United States copyright on or for this work, so
the Project (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States
without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext under the
Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 5

To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable efforts to identify,

transcribe and proofread public domain works. Despite these efforts, the
Project's etexts and any medium they may be on may contain "Defects".
Among other things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate
or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other etext medium,
a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your
equipment.

LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES

But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, [1] the
Project (and any other party you may receive this etext from as a PROJECT
GUTENBERG−tm etext) disclaims all liability to you for damages, costs
and expenses, including legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES
FOR NEGLIGENCE OR UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR
BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.

If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending an
explanatory note within that time to the person you received it from. If you
received it on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement copy. If
you received it electronically, such person may choose to alternatively give
you a second opportunity to receive it electronically.

THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS−IS". NO

OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE
MADE TO YOU AS TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE
ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF
MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 6

Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or the exclusion

or limitation of consequential damages, so the above disclaimers and
exclusions may not apply to you, and you may have other legal rights.

INDEMNITY

You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, officers, members
and agents harmless from all liability, cost and expense, including legal
fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following that you do
or cause: [1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, or
addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.

DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG−tm"

You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by disk, book or

any other medium if you either delete this "Small Print!" and all other
references to Project Gutenberg, or:

[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this requires that you
do not remove, alter or modify the etext or this "small print!" statement.
You may however, if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
binary, compressed, mark−up, or proprietary form, including any form
resulting from conversion by word pro− cessing or hypertext software, but
only so long as *EITHER*:

[*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and does *not* contain
characters other than those intended by the author of the work, although
tilde (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may be used to convey
punctuation intended by the author, and additional characters may be used
to indicate hypertext links; OR

[*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at no expense into
plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent form by the program that displays the
etext (as is the case, for instance, with most word processors); OR
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 7

[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at no additional cost,

fee or expense, a copy of the etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in
EBCDIC or other equivalent proprietary form).

[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this "Small
Print!" statement.

[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the net profits you
derive calculated using the method you already use to calculate your
applicable taxes. If you don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie−Mellon University"
within the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were legally
required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.

WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T

HAVE TO?

The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, scanning

machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty free copyright
licenses, and every other sort of contribution you can think of. Money
should be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association / Carnegie−Mellon
University".

*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN

ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*

ASTORIA; OR, ANECDOTES OF AN ENTERPRISE BEYOND THE

ROCKY MOUNTAINS

BY WASHINGTON IRVING

AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION

IN THE COURSE of occasional visits to Canada many years since, I

became intimately acquainted with some of the principal partners of the
great Northwest Fur Company, who at that time lived in genial style at
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 8

Montreal, and kept almost open house for the stranger. At their hospitable
boards I occasionally met with partners, and clerks, and hardy fur traders
from the interior posts; men who had passed years remote from civilized
society, among distant and savage tribes, and who had wonders to recount
of their wide and wild peregrinations, their hunting exploits, and their
perilous adventures and hair−breadth escapes among the Indians. I was at
an age when imagination lends its coloring to everything, and the stories of
these Sinbads of the wilderness made the life of a trapper and fur trader
perfect romance to me. I even meditated at one time a visit to the remote
posts of the company in the boats which annually ascended the lakes and
rivers, being thereto invited by one of the partners; and I have ever since
regretted that I was prevented by circumstances from carrying my intention
into effect. From those early impressions, the grand enterprise of the great
fur companies, and the hazardous errantry of their associates in the wild
parts of our vast continent, have always been themes of charmed interest to
me; and I have felt anxious to get at the details of their adventurous
expeditions among the savage tribes that peopled the depths of the
wilderness.

About two years ago, not long after my return from a tour upon the prairies
of the far West, I had a conversation with my friend, Mr. John Jacob Astor,
relative to that portion of our country, and to the adventurous traders to
Santa Fe and the Columbia. This led him to advert to a great enterprise set
on foot and conducted by him, between twenty and thirty years since,
having for its object to carry the fur trade across the Rocky Mountains, and
to sweep the shores of the Pacific.

Finding that I took an interest in the subject, he expressed a regret that the
true nature and extent of his enterprise and its national character and
importance had never been understood, and a wish that I would undertake
to give an account of it. The suggestion struck upon the chord of early
associations already vibrating in my mind. It occurred to me that a work of
this kind might comprise a variety of those curious details, so interesting to
me, illustrative of the fur trade; of its remote and adventurous enterprises,
and of the various people, and tribes, and castes, and characters, civilized
and savage, affected by its operations. The journals, and letters, also, of the
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 9

adventurers by sea and land employed by Mr. Astor in his comprehensive

project, might throw light upon portions of our country quite out of the
track of ordinary travel, and as yet but little known. I therefore felt disposed
to undertake the task, provided documents of sufficient extent and
minuteness could be furnished to me. All the papers relative to the
enterprise were accordingly submitted to my inspection. Among them were
journals and letters narrating expeditions by sea, and journeys to and fro
across the Rocky Mountains by routes before untravelled, together with
documents illustrative of savage and colonial life on the borders of the
Pacific. With such material in hand, I undertook the work. The trouble of
rummaging among business papers, and of collecting and collating facts
from amidst tedious and commonplace details, was spared me by my
nephew, Pierre M. Irving, who acted as my pioneer, and to whom I am
greatly indebted for smoothing my path and lightening my labors.

As the journals, on which I chiefly depended, had been kept by men of

business, intent upon the main object of the enterprise, and but little versed
in science, or curious about matters not immediately bearing upon their
interest, and as they were written often in moments of fatigue or hurry,
amid the inconveniences of wild encampments, they were often meagre in
their details, furnishing hints to provoke rather than narratives to satisfy
inquiry. I have, therefore, availed myself occasionally of collateral lights
supplied by the published journals of other travellers who have visited the
scenes described: such as Messrs. Lewis and Clarke, Bradbury,
Breckenridge, Long, Franchere, and Ross Cox, and make a general
acknowledgment of aid received from these quarters.

The work I here present to the public is necessarily of a rambling and

somewhat disjointed nature, comprising various expeditions and adventures
by land and sea. The facts, however, will prove to be linked and banded
together by one grand scheme, devised and conducted by a master spirit;
one set of characters, also, continues throughout, appearing occasionally,
though sometimes at long intervals, and the whole enterprise winds up by a
regular catastrophe; so that the work, without any labored attempt at
artificial construction, actually possesses much of that unity so much
sought after in works of fiction, and considered so important to the interest
CHAPTER I. 10

of every history.

WASHINGTON IRVING

CHAPTER I.

Objects of American Enterprise. Gold Hunting and Fur Trading. Their

Effect on Colonization. Early French Canadian Settlers. Ottawa and Huron
Hunters. An Indian Trading Camp. Coureurs Des Bois, or Rangers of the
Woods. Their Roaming Life. Their Revels and Excesses. Licensed Traders.
Missionaries. Trading Posts. Primitive French Canadian Merchant. His
Establishment and Dependents. British Canadian Fur Merchant. Origin of
the Northwest Company. Its Constitution. Its Internal Trade. A Candidate
for the Company. Privations in the Wilderness. Northwest Clerks.
Northwest Partners. Northwest Nabobs. Feudal Notions in the Forests. The
Lords of the Lakes. Fort William. Its Parliamentary Hall and Banqueting
Room. Wassailing in the Wilderness.

TWO leading objects of commercial gain have given birth to wide and
daring enterprise in the early history of the Americas; the precious metals
of the South, and the rich peltries of the North. While the fiery and
magnificent Spaniard, inflamed with the mania for gold, has extended his
discoveries and conquests over those brilliant countries scorched by the
ardent sun of the tropics, the adroit and buoyant Frenchman, and the cool
and calculating Briton, have pursued the less splendid, but no less lucrative,
traffic in furs amidst the hyperborean regions of the Canadas, until they
have advanced even within the Arctic Circle.

These two pursuits have thus in a manner been the pioneers and precursors
of civilization. Without pausing on the borders, they have penetrated at
once, in defiance of difficulties and dangers, to the heart of savage
countries: laying open the hidden secrets of the wilderness; leading the way
to remote regions of beauty and fertility that might have remained
unexplored for ages, and beckoning after them the slow and pausing steps
of agriculture and civilization.
CHAPTER I. 11

It was the fur trade, in fact, which gave early sustenance and vitality to the
great Canadian provinces. Being destitute of the precious metals, at that
time the leading objects of American enterprise, they were long neglected
by the parent country. The French adventurers, however, who had settled
on the banks of the St. Lawrence, soon found that in the rich peltries of the
interior, they had sources of wealth that might almost rival the mines of
Mexico and Peru. The Indians, as yet unacquainted with the artificial value
given to some descriptions of furs, in civilized life, brought quantities of
the most precious kinds and bartered them away for European trinkets and
cheap commodities. Immense profits were thus made by the early traders,
and the traffic was pursued with avidity.

As the valuable furs soon became scarce in the neighborhood of the

settlements, the Indians of the vicinity were stimulated to take a wider
range in their hunting expeditions; they were generally accompanied on
these expeditions by some of the traders or their dependents, who shared in
the toils and perils of the chase, and at the same time made themselves
acquainted with the best hunting and trapping grounds, and with the remote
tribes, whom they encouraged to bring their peltries to the settlements. In
this way the trade augmented, and was drawn from remote quarters to
Montreal. Every now and then a large body of Ottawas, Hurons, and other
tribes who hunted the countries bordering on the great lakes, would come
down in a squadron of light canoes, laden with beaver skins, and other
spoils of their year's hunting. The canoes would be unladen, taken on shore,
and their contents disposed in order. A camp of birch bark would be
pitched outside of the town, and a kind of primitive fair opened with that
grave ceremonial so dear to the Indians. An audience would be demanded
of the governor−general, who would hold the conference with becoming
state, seated in an elbow−chair, with the Indians ranged in semicircles
before him, seated on the ground, and silently smoking their pipes.
Speeches would be made, presents exchanged, and the audience would
break up in universal good humor.

Now would ensue a brisk traffic with the merchants, and all Montreal
would be alive with naked Indians running from shop to shop, bargaining
for arms, kettles, knives, axes, blankets, bright−colored cloths, and other
CHAPTER I. 12

articles of use or fancy; upon all which, says an old French writer, the
merchants were sure to clear at least two hundred per cent. There was no
money used in this traffic, and, after a time, all payment in spirituous
liquors was prohibited, in consequence of the frantic and frightful excesses
and bloody brawls which they were apt to occasion.

Their wants and caprices being supplied, they would take leave of the
governor, strike their tents, launch their canoes, and ply their way up the
Ottawa to the lakes.

A new and anomalous class of men gradually grew out of this trade. These
were called coureurs des bois, rangers of the woods; originally men who
had accompanied the Indians in their hunting expeditions, and made
themselves acquainted with remote tracts and tribes; and who now became,
as it were, peddlers of the wilderness. These men would set out from
Montreal with canoes well stocked with goods, with arms and ammunition,
and would make their way up the mazy and wandering rivers that interlace
the vast forests of the Canadas, coasting the most remote lakes, and
creating new wants and habitudes among the natives. Sometimes they
sojourned for months among them, assimilating to their tastes and habits
with the happy facility of Frenchmen, adopting in some degree the Indian
dress, and not unfrequently taking to themselves Indian wives.

Twelve, fifteen, eighteen months would often elapse without any tidings of
them, when they would come sweeping their way down the Ottawa in full
glee, their canoes laden down with packs of beaver skins. Now came their
turn for revelry and extravagance. "You would be amazed," says an old
writer already quoted, "if you saw how lewd these peddlers are when they
return; how they feast and game, and how prodigal they are, not only in
their clothes, but upon their sweethearts. Such of them as are married have
the wisdom to retire to their own houses; but the bachelors act just as an
East Indiaman and pirates are wont to do; for they lavish, eat, drink, and
play all away as long as the goods hold out; and when these are gone, they
even sell their embroidery, their lace, and their clothes. This done, they are
forced upon a new voyage for subsistence."
CHAPTER I. 13

Many of these coureurs des bois became so accustomed to the Indian mode
of living, and the perfect freedom of the wilderness, that they lost relish for
civilization, and identified themselves with the savages among whom they
dwelt, or could only be distinguished from them by superior licentiousness.
Their conduct and example gradually corrupted the natives, and impeded
the works of the Catholic missionaries, who were at this time prosecuting
their pious labors in the wilds of Canada.

To check these abuses, and to protect the fur trade from various
irregularities practiced by these loose adventurers, an order was issued by
the French government prohibiting all persons, on pain of death, from
trading into the interior of the country without a license.

These licenses were granted in writing by the governor−general, and at first

were given only to persons of respectability; to gentlemen of broken
fortunes; to old officers of the army who had families to provide for; or to
their widows. Each license permitted the fitting out of two large canoes
with merchandise for the lakes, and no more than twenty−five licenses
were to be issued in one year. By degrees, however, private licenses were
also granted, and the number rapidly increased. Those who did not choose
to fit out the expeditions themselves, were permitted to sell them to the
merchants; these employed the coureurs des bois, or rangers of the woods,
to undertake the long voyages on shares, and thus the abuses of the old
system were revived and continued.

The pious missionaries employed by the Roman Catholic Church to convert

the Indians, did everything in their power to counteract the profligacy
caused and propagated by these men in the heart of the wilderness. The
Catholic chapel might often be seen planted beside the trading house, and
its spire surmounted by a cross, towering from the midst of an Indian
village, on the banks of a river or a lake. The missions had often a
beneficial effect on the simple sons of the forest, but had little power over
the renegades from civilization.

At length it was found necessary to establish fortified posts at the

confluence of the rivers and the lakes for the protection of the trade, and the
CHAPTER I. 14

restraint of these profligates of the wilderness. The most important of these

was at Michilimackinac, situated at the strait of the same name, which
connects Lakes Huron and Michigan. It became the great interior mart and
place of deposit, and some of the regular merchants who prosecuted the
trade in person, under their licenses, formed establishments here. This, too,
was a rendezvous for the rangers of the woods, as well those who came up
with goods from Montreal as those who returned with peltries from the
interior. Here new expeditions were fitted out and took their departure for
Lake Michigan and the Mississippi; Lake Superior and the Northwest; and
here the peltries brought in return were embarked for Montreal.

The French merchant at his trading post, in these primitive days of Canada,
was a kind of commercial patriarch. With the lax habits and easy familiarity
of his race, he had a little world of self−indulgence and misrule around him.
He had his clerks, canoe men, and retainers of all kinds, who lived with him
on terms of perfect sociability, always calling him by his Christian name;
he had his harem of Indian beauties, and his troop of halfbreed children;
nor was there ever wanting a louting train of Indians, hanging about the
establishment, eating and drinking at his expense in the intervals of their
hunting expeditions.

The Canadian traders, for a long time, had troublesome competitors in the
British merchants of New York, who inveigled the Indian hunters and the
coureurs des bois to their posts, and traded with them on more favorable
terms. A still more formidable opposition was organized in the Hudson's
Bay Company, chartered by Charles II., in 1670, with the exclusive
privilege of establishing trading houses on the shores of that bay and its
tributary rivers; a privilege which they have maintained to the present day.
Between this British company and the French merchants of Canada, feuds
and contests arose about alleged infringements of territorial limits, and acts
of violence and bloodshed occurred between their agents.

In 1762, the French lost possession of Canada, and the trade fell principally
into the hands of British subjects. For a time, however, it shrunk within
narrow limits. The old coureurs des bois were broken up and dispersed, or,
where they could be met with, were slow to accustom themselves to the
CHAPTER I. 15

habits and manners of their British employers. They missed the freedom,
indulgence, and familiarity of the old French trading houses, and did not
relish the sober exactness, reserve, and method of the new− comers. The
British traders, too, were ignorant of the country, and distrustful of the
natives. They had reason to be so. The treacherous and bloody affairs of
Detroit and Michilimackinac showed them the lurking hostility cherished
by the savages, who had too long been taught by the French to regard them
as enemies.

It was not until the year 1766, that the trade regained its old channels; but it
was then pursued with much avidity and emulation by individual
merchants, and soon transcended its former bounds. Expeditions were fitted
out by various persons from Montreal and Michilimackinac, and rivalships
and jealousies of course ensued. The trade was injured by their artifices to
outbid and undermine each other; the Indians were debauched by the sale of
spirituous liquors, which had been prohibited under the French rule. Scenes
of drunkeness, brutality, and brawl were the consequence, in the Indian
villages and around the trading houses; while bloody feuds took place
between rival trading parties when they happened to encounter each other
in the lawless depths of the wilderness.

To put an end to these sordid and ruinous contentions, several of the

principal merchants of Montreal entered into a partnership in the winter of
1783, which was augmented by amalgamation with a rival company in
1787. Thus was created the famous "Northwest Company," which for a
time held a lordly sway over the wintry lakes and boundless forests of the
Canadas, almost equal to that of the East India Company over the
voluptuous climes and magnificent realms of the Orient.

The company consisted of twenty−three shareholders, or partners, but held

in its employ about two thousand persons as clerks, guides, interpreters,
and "voyageurs," or boatmen. These were distributed at various trading
posts, established far and wide on the interior lakes and rivers, at immense
distances from each other, and in the heart of trackless countries and savage
tribes.
CHAPTER I. 16

Several of the partners resided in Montreal and Quebec, to manage the

main concerns of the company. These were called agents, and were
personages of great weight and importance; the other partners took their
stations at the interior posts, where they remained throughout the winter, to
superintend the intercourse with the various tribes of Indians. They were
thence called wintering partners.

The goods destined for this wide and wandering traffic were put up at the
warehouses of the company in Montreal, and conveyed in batteaux, or
boats and canoes, up the river Attawa, or Ottowa, which falls into the St.
Lawrence near Montreal, and by other rivers and portages, to Lake
Nipising, Lake Huron, Lake Superior, and thence, by several chains of
great and small lakes, to Lake Winnipeg, Lake Athabasca, and the Great
Slave Lake. This singular and beautiful system of internal seas, which
renders an immense region of wilderness so accessible to the frail bark of
the Indian or the trader, was studded by the remote posts of the company,
where they carried on their traffic with the surrounding tribes.

The company, as we have shown, was at first a spontaneous association of

merchants; but, after it had been regularly organized, admission into it
became extremely difficult. A candidate had to enter, as it were, "before the
mast," to undergo a long probation, and to rise slowly by his merits and
services. He began, at an early age, as a clerk, and served an apprenticeship
of seven years, for which he received one hundred pounds sterling, was
maintained at the expense of the company, and furnished with suitable
clothing and equipments. His probation was generally passed at the interior
trading posts; removed for years from civilized society, leading a life
almost as wild and precarious as the savages around him; exposed to the
severities of a northern winter, often suffering from a scarcity of food, and
sometimes destitute for a long time of both bread and salt. When his
apprenticeship had expired, he received a salary according to his deserts,
varying from eighty to one hundred and sixty pounds sterling, and was now
eligible to the great object of his ambition, a partnership in the company;
though years might yet elapse before he attained to that enviable station.
CHAPTER I. 17

Most of the clerks were young men of good families, from the Highlands of
Scotland, characterized by the perseverance, thrift, and fidelity of their
country, and fitted by their native hardihood to encounter the rigorous
climate of the North, and to endure the trials and privations of their lot;
though it must not be concealed that the constitutions of many of them
became impaired by the hardships of the wilderness, and their stomachs
injured by occasional famishing, and especially by the want of bread and
salt. Now and then, at an interval of years, they were permitted to come
down on a visit to the establishment at Montreal, to recruit their health, and
to have a taste of civilized life; and these were brilliant spots in their
existence.

As to the principal partners, or agents, who resided in Montreal and

Quebec, they formed a kind of commercial aristocracy, living in lordly and
hospitable style. Their posts, and the pleasures, dangers, adventures, and
mishaps which they had shared together in their wild wood life, had linked
them heartily to each other, so that they formed a convivial fraternity. Few
travellers that have visited Canada some thirty years since, in the days of
the M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, the M'Kenzies, the Frobishers, and the
other magnates of the Northwest, when the company was in all its glory,
but must remember the round of feasting and revelry kept up among these
hyperborean nabobs.

Sometimes one or two partners, recently from the interior posts, would
make their appearance in New York, in the course of a tour of pleasure and
curiosity. On these occasions there was a degree of magnificence of the
purse about them, and a peculiar propensity to expenditure at the
goldsmith's and jeweler's for rings, chains, brooches, necklaces, jeweled
watches, and other rich trinkets, partly for their own wear, partly for
presents to their female acquaintances; a gorgeous prodigality, such as was
often to be noticed in former times in Southern planters and West India
creoles, when flush with the profits of their plantations.

To behold the Northwest Company in all its state and grandeur, however, it
was necessary to witness an annual gathering at the great interior place of
conference established at Fort William, near what is called the Grand
CHAPTER I. 18

Portage, on Lake Superior. Here two or three of the leading partners from
Montreal proceeded once a year to meet the partners from the various
trading posts of the wilderness, to discuss the affairs of the company during
the preceding year, and to arrange plans for the future.

On these occasions might be seen the change since the unceremonious

times of the old French traders; now the aristocratic character of the Briton
shone forth magnificently, or rather the feudal spirit of the Highlander.
Every partner who had charge of an interior post, and a score of retainers at
his Command, felt like the chieftain of a Highland clan, and was almost as
important in the eyes of his dependents as of himself. To him a visit to the
grand conference at Fort William was a most important event, and he
repaired there as to a meeting of parliament.

The partners from Montreal, however, were the lords of the ascendant;
coming from the midst of luxurious and ostentatious life, they quite
eclipsed their compeers from the woods, whose forms and faces had been
battered and hardened by hard living and hard service, and whose garments
and equipments were all the worse for wear. Indeed, the partners from
below considered the whole dignity of the company as represented in their
persons, and conducted themselves in suitable style. They ascended the
rivers in great state, like sovereigns making a progress: or rather like
Highland chieftains navigating their subject lakes. They were wrapped in
rich furs, their huge canoes freighted with every convenience and luxury,
and manned by Canadian voyageurs, as obedient as Highland clansmen.
They carried up with them cooks and bakers, together with delicacies of
every kind, and abundance of choice wines for the banquets which attended
this great convocation. Happy were they, too, if they could meet with some
distinguished stranger; above all, some titled member of the British
nobility, to accompany them on this stately occasion, and grace their high
solemnities.

Fort William, the scene of this important annual meeting, was a

considerable village on the banks of Lake Superior. Here, in an immense
wooden building, was the great council hall, as also the banqueting
chamber, decorated with Indian arms and accoutrements, and the trophies
CHAPTER I. 19

of the fur trade. The house swarmed at this time with traders and
voyageurs, some from Montreal, bound to the interior posts; some from the
interior posts, bound to Montreal. The councils were held in great state, for
every member felt as if sitting in parliament, and every retainer and
dependent looked up to the assemblage with awe, as to the House of Lords.
There was a vast deal of solemn deliberation, and hard Scottish reasoning,
with an occasional swell of pompous declamation.

These grave and weighty councils were alternated by huge feasts and
revels, like some of the old feasts described in Highland castles. The tables
in the great banqueting room groaned under the weight of game of all
kinds; of venison from the woods, and fish from the lakes, with hunters'
delicacies, such as buffalos' tongues, and beavers' tails, and various luxuries
from Montreal, all served up by experienced cooks brought for the purpose.
There was no stint of generous wine, for it was a hard−drinking period, a
time of loyal toasts, and bacchanalian songs, and brimming bumpers.

While the chiefs thus revelled in hall, and made the rafters resound with
bursts of loyalty and old Scottish songs, chanted in voices cracked and
sharpened by the northern blast, their merriment was echoed and prolonged
by a mongrel legion of retainers, Canadian voyageurs, half−breeds, Indian
hunters, and vagabond hangers−on who feasted sumptuously without on the
crumbs that fell from their table, and made the welkin ring with old French
ditties, mingled with Indian yelps and yellings.

Such was the Northwest Company in its powerful and prosperous days,
when it held a kind of feudal sway over a vast domain of lake and forest.
We are dwelling too long, perhaps, upon these individual pictures, endeared
to us by the associations of early life, when, as yet a stripling youth, we
have sat at the hospitable boards of the "mighty Northwesters," the lords of
the ascendant at Montreal, and gazed with wondering and inexperienced
eye at the baronial wassailing, and listened with astonished ear to their tales
of hardship and adventures. It is one object of our task, however, to present
scenes of the rough life of the wilderness, and we are tempted to fix these
few memorials of a transient state of things fast passing into oblivion; for
the feudal state of Fort William is at an end, its council chamber is silent
CHAPTER II. 20

and deserted; its banquet hall no longer echoes to the burst of loyalty, or the
"auld world" ditty; the lords of the lakes and forests have passed away; and
the hospitable magnates of Montreal where are they?

CHAPTER II.

Rise of the Mackinaw Company. Attempt of the American Government to

Counteract Foreign Influence Over the Indian Tribes. John Jacob Astor. His
Birth−Place. His Arrival in the United States. What First Turned His
Attention to the Fur Trade. His Character, Enterprises, and Success. His
Communications With the American Government. Origin of the American
Fur Company

THE success of the Northwest Company stimulated further enterprise in

this opening and apparently boundless field of profit. The traffic of that
company lay principally in the high northern latitudes, while there were
immense regions to the south and west, known to abound with valuable
peltries; but which, as yet, had been but little explored by the fur trader. A
new association of British merchants was therefore formed, to prosecute the
trade in this direction. The chief factory was established at the old
emporium of Michilimackinac, from which place the association took its
name, and was commonly called the Mackinaw Company.

While the Northwesters continued to push their enterprises into the

hyperborean regions from their stronghold at Fort William, and to hold
almost sovereign sway over the tribes of the upper lakes and rivers, the
Mackinaw Company sent forth their light perogues and barks, by Green
Bay, Fox River, and the Wisconsin, to that areas artery of the West, the
Mississippi; and down that stream to all its tributary rivers. In this way they
hoped soon to monopolize the trade with all the tribes on the southern and
western waters, and of those vast tracts comprised in ancient Louisiana.

The government of the United States began to view with a wary eye the
growing influence thus acquired by combinations of foreigners, over the
aboriginal tribes inhabiting its territories, and endeavored to counteract it.
CHAPTER II. 21

For this purpose, as early as 1796, the government sent out agents to
establish rival trading houses on the frontier, so as to supply the wants of
the Indians, to link their interests and feelings with those of the people of
the United States, and to divert this important branch of trade into national
channels.

The expedition, however, was unsuccessful, as most commercial expedients

are prone to be, where the dull patronage of government is counted upon to
outvie the keen activity of private enterprise. What government failed to
effect, however, with all its patronage and all its agents, was at length
brought about by the enterprise and perseverance of a single merchant, one
of its adopted citizens; and this brings us to speak of the individual whose
enterprise is the especial subject of the following pages; a man whose name
and character are worthy of being enrolled in the history of commerce, as
illustrating its noblest aims and soundest maxims. A few brief anecdotes of
his early life, and of the circumstances which first determined him to the
branch of commerce of which we are treating, cannot be but interesting.

John Jacob Astor, the individual in question, was born in the honest little
German village of Waldorf, near Heidelberg, on the banks of the Rhine. He
was brought up in the simplicity of rural life, but, while yet a mere
stripling, left his home, and launched himself amid the busy scenes of
London, having had, from his very boyhood, a singular presentiment that
he would ultimately arrive at great fortune.

At the close of the American Revolution he was still in London, and scarce
on the threshold of active life. An elder brother had been for some few
years resident in the United States, and Mr. Astor determined to follow
him, and to seek his fortunes in the rising country. Investing a small sum
which he had amassed since leaving his native village, in merchandise
suited to the American market, he embarked, in the month of November,
1783, in a ship bound to Baltimore, and arrived in Hampton Roads in the
month of January. The winter was extremely severe, and the ship, with
many others, was detained by the ice in and about Chesapeake Bay for
nearly three months.
CHAPTER II. 22

During this period, the passengers of the various ships used occasionally to
go on shore, and mingle sociably together. In this way Mr. Astor became
acquainted with a countryman of his, a furrier by trade. Having had a
previous impression that this might be a lucrative trade in the New World,
he made many inquiries of his new acquaintance on the subject, who
cheerfully gave him all the information in his power as to the quality and
value of different furs, and the mode of carrying on the traffic. He
subsequently accompanied him to New York, and, by his advice, Mr. Astor
was induced to invest the proceeds of his merchandise in furs. With these
he sailed from New York to London in 1784, disposed of them
advantageously, made himself further acquainted with the course of the
trade, and returned the same year to New York, with a view to settle in the
United States.

He now devoted himself to the branch of commerce with which he had thus
casually been made acquainted. He began his career, of course, on the
narrowest scale; but he brought to the task a persevering industry, rigid
economy, and strict integrity. To these were added an aspiring spirit that
always looked upwards; a genius bold, fertile, and expansive; a sagacity
quick to grasp and convert every circumstance to its advantage, and a
singular and never wavering confidence of signal success.

As yet, trade in peltries was not organized in the United States, and could
not be said to form a regular line of business. Furs and skins were casually
collected by the country traders in their dealings with the Indians or the
white hunters, but the main supply was derived from Canada. As Mr.
Astor's means increased, he made annual visits to Montreal, where he
purchased furs from the houses at that place engaged in the trade. These he
shipped from Canada to London, no direct trade being allowed from that
colony to any but the mother country.

In 1794 or '95, a treaty with Great Britain removed the restrictions imposed
upon the trade with the colonies, and opened a direct commercial
intercourse between Canada and the United States. Mr. Astor was in
London at the time, and immediately made a contract with the agents of the
Northwest Company for furs. He was now enabled to import them from
CHAPTER II. 23

Montreal into the United States for the home supply, and to be shipped
thence to different parts of Europe, as well as to China, which has ever been
the best market for the richest and finest kinds of peltry.

The treaty in question provided, likewise, that the military posts occupied
by the British within the territorial limits of the United States, should be
surrendered. Accordingly, Oswego, Niagara, Detroit, Michilimackinac, and
other posts on the American side of the lakes, were given up. An opening
was thus made for the American merchant to trade on the confines of
Canada, and within the territories of the United States. After an interval of
some years, about 1807, Mr. Astor embarked in this trade on his own
account. His capital and resources had by this time greatly augmented, and
he had risen from small beginnings to take his place among the first
merchants and financiers of the country. His genius had ever been in
advance of his circumstances, prompting him to new and wide fields of
enterprise beyond the scope of ordinary merchants. With all his enterprise
and resources however, he soon found the power and influence of the
Michilimackinac (or Mackinaw) Company too great for him, having
engrossed most of the trade within the American borders.

A plan had to be devised to enable him to enter into successful competition.

He was aware of the wish of the American government, already stated, that
the fur trade within its boundaries should be in the hands of American
citizens, and of the ineffectual measures it had taken to accomplish that
object. He now offered, if aided and protected by government, to turn the
whole of that trade into American channels. He was invited to unfold his
plans to government, and they were warmly approved, though the executive
could give no direct aid.

Thus countenanced, however, he obtained, in 1809, a charter from the

legislature of the State of New York, incorporating a company under the
name of "The American Fur Company," with a capital of one million of
dollars, with the privilege of increasing it to two millions. The capital was
furnished by himself he, in fact, constituted the company; for, though he
had a board of directors, they were merely nominal; the whole business was
conducted on his plans and with his resources, but he preferred to do so
CHAPTER III. 24

under the imposing and formidable aspect of a corporation, rather than in

his individual name, and his policy was sagacious and effective.

As the Mackinaw Company still continued its rivalry, and as the fur trade
would not advantageously admit of competition, he made a new
arrangement in 1811, by which, in conjunction with certain partners of the
Northwest Company, and other persons engaged in the fur trade, he bought
out the Mackinaw Company, and merged that and the American Fur
Company into a new association, to be called the "Southwest Company."
This he likewise did with the privity and approbation of the American
government.

By this arrangement Mr. Astor became proprietor of one half of the Indian
establishments and goods which the Mackinaw Company had within the
territory of the Indian country in the United States, and it was understood
that the whole was to be surrendered into his hands at the expiration of five
years, on condition that the American Company would not trade within the
British dominions.

Unluckily, the war which broke out in 1812 between Great Britain and the
United States suspended the association; and, after the war, it was entirely
dissolved; Congress having passed a law prohibiting the British fur traders
from prosecuting their enterprises within the territories of the United States.

CHAPTER III.

Fur Trade in the Pacific− American Coasting Voyages− Russian

Enterprises.− Discovery of the Columbia River.− Carver's Project to Found
a Settlement There.−Mackenzie's Expedition.− Lewis and Clarke's Journey
Across the Rocky Mountains− Mr. Astor's Grand Commercial
Scheme.−His Correspondence on the Subject With Mr. Jefferson.His
Negotiations With the Northwest Company.− His Steps to Carry His
Scheme Into Effect.
CHAPTER III. 25

WHILE the various companies we have noticed were pushing their

enterprises far and wide in the wilds of Canada, and along the course of the
great western waters, other adventurers, intent on the same objects, were
traversing the watery wastes of the Pacific and skirting the northwest coast
of America. The last voyage of that renowned but unfortunate discoverer,
Captain Cook, had made known the vast quantities of the sea−otter to be
found along that coast, and the immense prices to be obtained for its fur in
China. It was as if a new gold coast had been discovered. Individuals from
various countries dashed into this lucrative traffic, so that in the year 1792,
there were twenty−one vessels under different flags, plying along the coast
and trading with the natives. The greater part of them were American, and
owned by Boston merchants. They generally remained on the coast and
about the adjacent seas, for two years, carrying on as wandering and
adventurous a commerce on the water as did the traders and trappers on
land. Their trade extended along the whole coast from California to the
high northern latitudes. They would run in near shore, anchor, and wait for
the natives to come off in their canoes with peltries. The trade exhausted at
one place, they would up anchor and off to another. In this way they would
consume the summer, and when autumn came on, would run down to the
Sandwich Islands and winter in some friendly and plentiful harbor. In the
following year they would resume their summer trade, commencing at
California and proceeding north: and, having in the course of the two
seasons collected a sufficient cargo of peltries, would make the best of their
way to China. Here they would sell their furs, take in teas, nankeens, and
other merchandise, and return to Boston, after an absence of two or three
years.

The people, however, who entered most extensively and effectively in the
fur trade of the Pacific, were the Russians. Instead of making casual
voyages, in transient ships, they established regular trading houses in the
high latitudes, along the northwest coast of America, and upon the chain of
the Aleutian Islands between Kamtschatka and the promontory of Alaska.

To promote and protect these enterprises, a company was incorporated by

the Russian government with exclusive privileges, and a capital of two
hundred and sixty thousand pounds sterling; and the sovereignty of that part
CHAPTER III. 26

of the American continent, along the coast of which the posts had been
established, was claimed by the Russian crown, on the plea that the land
had been discovered and occupied by its subjects.

As China was the grand mart for the furs collected in these quarters, the
Russians had the advantage over their competitors in the trade. The latter
had to take their peltries to Canton, which, however, was a mere receiving
mart, from whence they had to be distributed over the interior of the empire
and sent to the northern parts, where there was the chief consumption. The
Russians, on the contrary, carried their furs, by a shorter voyage, directly to
the northern parts of the Chinese empire; thus being able to afford them in
the market without the additional cost of internal transportation.

We come now to the immediate field of operation of the great enterprise we

have undertaken to illustrate.

Among the American ships which traded along the northwest coast in 1792,
was the Columbia, Captain Gray, of Boston. In the course of her voyage
she discovered the mouth of a large river in lat. 46 19' north. Entering it
with some difficulty, on account of sand−bars and breakers, she came to
anchor in a spacious bay. A boat was well manned, and sent on shore to a
village on the beach, but all the inhabitants fled excepting the aged and
infirm. The kind manner in which these were treated, and the presents
given them, gradually lured back the others, and a friendly intercourse took
place. They had never seen a ship or a white man. When they had first
descried the Columbia, they had supposed it a floating island; then some
monster of the deep; but when they saw the boat putting for shore with
human beings on board, they considered them cannibals sent by the Great
Spirit to ravage the country and devour the inhabitants. Captain Gray did
not ascend the river farther than the bay in question, which continues to
bear his name. After putting to sea, he fell in with the celebrated discoverer,
Vancouver, and informed him of his discovery, furnished him with a chart
which he had made of the river. Vancouver visited the river, and his
lieutenant, Broughton, explored it by the aid of Captain Gray's chart;
ascending it upwards of one hundred miles, until within view of a snowy
mountain, to which he gave the name of Mt. Hood, which it still retains.
CHAPTER III. 27

The existence of this river, however, was known long before the visits of
Gray and Vancouver, but the information concerning it was vague and
indefinite, being gathered from the reports of Indians. It was spoken of by
travellers as the Oregon, and as the Great River of the West. A Spanish ship
is said to have been wrecked at the mouth, several of the crew of which
lived for some time among, the natives. The Columbia, however, is
believed to be the first ship that made a regular discovery and anchored
within its waters, and it has since generally borne the name of that vessel.
As early as 1763, shortly after the acquisition of the Canadas by Great
Britain, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had been in the British provincial
army, projected a journey across the continent between the forty−third and
forty−sixth degrees of northern latitude to the shores of −the Pacific Ocean.
His objects were to ascertain the breadth of the continent at its broadest
part, and to determine on some place on the shores of the Pacific, where
government might establish a post to facilitate the discovery of a northwest
passage, or a communication between Hudson's Bay and the Pacific Ocean.
This place he presumed would be somewhere about the Straits of Annian,
at which point he supposed the Oregon disembogued itself. It was his
opinion, also, that a settlement on this extremity of America would disclose
new sources of trade, promote many useful discoveries, and open a more
direct communication with China and the English settlements in the East
Indies, than that by the Cape of Good Hope or the Straits of Magellan. *
This enterprising and intrepid traveller was twice baffled in individual
efforts to accomplish this great journey. In 1774, he was joined in the
scheme by Richard Whitworth, a member of Parliament, and a man of
wealth. Their enterprise was projected on a broad and bold plan. They were
to take with them fifty or sixty men, artificers and mariners. With these
they were to make their way up one of the branches of the Missouri,
explore the mountains for the source of the Oregon, or River of the West,
and sail down that river to its supposed exit, near the Straits of Annian.
Here they were to erect a fort, and build the vessels necessary to carry their
discoveries by sea into effect. Their plan had the sanction of the British
government, and grants and other requisites were nearly completed, when
the breaking out of the American Revolution once more defeated the
undertaking. **
CHAPTER III. 28

The expedition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in 1793, across the continent to

the Pacific Ocean, which he reached in lat. 52 20' 48", again suggested the
possibility of linking together the trade of both sides of the continent. In lat.
52 30' he had descended a river for some distance which flowed towards
the south, and wag called by the natives Tacoutche Tesse, and which he
erroneously supposed to be the Columbia. It was afterwards ascertained
that it emptied itself in lat. 49 degrees, whereas the mouth of the Columbia
is about three degrees further south.

When Mackenzie some years subsequently published an account of his

expeditions, he suggested the policy of opening an intercourse between the
Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and forming regular establishments through the
interior and at both extremes, as well as along the coasts and islands. By
this means, he observed, the entire command of the fur trade of North
America might be obtained from lat. 48 north to the pole, excepting that
portion held by the Russians, for as to the American adventurers who had
hitherto enjoyed the traffic along the northwest coast, they would instantly
disappear, he added, before a well regulated trade.

A scheme of this kind, however, was too vast and hazardous for individual
enterprise; it could only be undertaken by a company under the sanction
and protection of a government; and as there might be a clashing of claims
between the Hudson's Bay and Northwest Company, the one holding by
right of charter, the other by right of possession, he proposed that the two
comparties should coalesce in this great undertaking. The long−cherished
jealousies of these two companies, however, were too deep and strong to
allow them to listen to such counsel.

In the meantime the attention of the American government was attracted to

the subject, and the memorable expedition under Messrs. Lewis and Clarke
fitted out. These gentlemen, in 1804, accomplished the enterprise which
had been projected by Carver and Whitworth in 1774. They ascended the
Missouri, passed through the stupendous gates of the Rocky Mountains,
hitherto unknown to white men; discovered and explored the upper waters
of the Columbia, and followed that river down to its mouth, where their
countryman, Gray, had anchored about twelve years previously. Here they
CHAPTER III. 29

passed the winter, and returned across the mountains in the following
spring. The reports published by them of their expedition demonstrated the
practicability of establishing a line of communication across the continent,
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean.

it was then that the idea presented itself to the mind of Mr. Astor, of
grasping with his individual hand this great enterprise, which for years had
been dubiously yet desirously contemplated by powerful associations and
maternal governments. For some time he revolved the idea in his mind,
gradually extending and maturing his plans as his means of executing them
augmented. The main feature of his scheme was to establish a line of
trading posts along the Missouri and the Columbia, to the mouth of the
latter, where was to be founded the chief trading house or mart. Inferior
posts would be established in the interior, and on all the tributary streams of
the Columbia, to trade with the Indians; these posts would draw their
supplies from the main establishment, and bring to it the peltries they
collected. Coasting craft would be built and fitted out, also at the mouth of
the Columbia, to trade, at favorable seasons, all along the northwest coast,
and return, with the proceeds of their voyages, to this place of deposit. Thus
all the Indian trade, both of the interior and the coast, would converge to
this point, and thence derive its sustenance.

A ship was to be sent annually from New York to this main establishment
with reinforcements and supplies, and with merchandise suited to the trade.
It would take on board the furs collected during the preceding year, carry
them to Canton, invest the proceeds in the rich merchandise of China, and
return thus freighted to New York. As, in extending the American trade
along the coast to the northward, it might be brought into the vicinity of the
Russian Fur Company, and produce a hostile rivalry, it was part of the plan
of Mr. Astor to conciliate the good−will of that company by the most
amicable and beneficial arrangements. The Russian establishment was
chiefly dependent for its supplies upon transient trading vessels from the
United States. These vessels, however, were often of more harm than
advantage. Being owned by private adventurers, or casual voyagers, who
cared only for present profit, and had no interest in the permanent
prosperity of the trade, they were reckless in their dealings with the natives,
CHAPTER III. 30

and made no scruple of supplying them with fire−arms. In this way several
fierce tribes in the vicinity of the Russian posts, or within the range of their
trading excursions, were furnished with deadly means of warfare, and
rendered troublesome and dangerous neighbors.

The Russian government had made representations to that of the United

States of these malpractices on the part of its citizens, and urged to have
this traffic in arms prohibited; but, as it did not infringe any municipal law,
our government could not interfere. Yet, still it regarded, with solicitude, a
traffic which, if persisted in, might give offence to Russia, at that time
almost the only friendly power to us. In this dilemma the government had
applied to Mr. Astor, as one conversant in this branch of trade, for
information that might point out a way to remedy the evil. This
circumstance had suggested to him the idea of supplying the Russian
establishment regularly by means of the annual ship that should visit the
settlement at the mouth of the Columbia (or Oregon) ; by this means the
casual trading vessels would be excluded from those parts of the coast
where their malpractices were so injurious to the Russians.

Such is a brief outline of the enterprise projected by Mr. Astor, but which
continually expanded in his mind. Indeed it is due to him to say that he was
not actuated by mere motives of individual profit. He was already wealthy
beyond the ordinary desires of man, but he now aspired to that honorable
fame which is awarded to men of similar scope of mind, who by their great
commercial enterprises have enriched nations, peopled wildernesses, and
extended the bounds of empire. He considered his projected establishment
at the mouth of the Columbia as the emporium to an immense commerce;
as a colony that would form the germ of a wide civilization; that would, in
fact, carry the American population across the Rocky Mountains and spread
it along the shores of the Pacific, as it already animated the shores of the
Atlantic. As Mr. Astor, by the magnitude of his commercial and financial
relations, and the vigor and scope of his self−taught mind, had elevated
himself into the consideration of government and the communion and
correspondence with leading statesmen, he, at an early period,
communicated his schemes to President Jefferson, soliciting the
countenance of government. How highly they were esteemed by that
CHAPTER III. 31

eminent man, we may judge by the following passage, written by him some
time afterwards.

"I remember well having invited your proposition on this subject,*** and
encouraged it with the assurance of every facility and protection which the
government could properly afford. I considered, as a great public
acquisition, the commencement of a settlement on that point of the western
coast of America, and looked forward with gratification to the time when
its descendants should have spread themselves through the whole length of
that coast, covering it with free and independent Americans, unconnected
with us but by the ties of blood and interest, and enjoying like us the rights
of self−government."

The cabinet joined with Mr. Jefferson in warm approbation of the plan, and
held out assurance of every protection that could, consistently with general
policy, be afforded. Mr. Astor now prepared to carry his scheme into
prompt execution. He had some competition, however, to apprehend and
guard against. The Northwest Company, acting feebly and partially upon
the suggestions of its former agent, Sir Alexander Mackenzie, had pushed
one or two advanced trading posts across the Rocky Mountains, into a tract
of country visited by that enterprising traveller, and since named New
Caledonia. This tract lay about two degrees north of the Columbia, and
intervened between the territories of the United States and those of Russia.
Its length was about five hundred and fifty miles, and its breadth, from the
mountains to the Pacific, from three hundred to three hundred and fifty
geographic miles.

Should the Northwest Company persist in extending their trade in that

quarter, their competition might be of serious detriment to the plans of Mr.
Astor. It is true they would contend with him to a vast disadvantage, from
the checks and restrictions to which they were subjected. They were
straitened on one side by the rivalry of the Hudson's Bay Company; then
they had no good post on the Pacific where they could receive supplies by
sea for their establishments beyond the mountains; nor, if they had one,
could they ship their furs thence to China, that great mart for peltries; the
Chinese trade being comprised in the monopoly of the East India Company.
CHAPTER III. 32

Their posts beyond the mountains had to be supplied in yearly expeditions,

like caravans, from Montreal, and the furs conveyed back in the same way,
by long, precarious, and expensive routes, across the continent. Mr. Astor,
on the contrary, would be able to supply his proposed establishment at the
mouth of the Columbia by sea, and to ship the furs collected there directly
to China, so as to undersell the Northwest Company in the great Chinese
market.

Still, the competition of two rival companies west of the Rocky Mountains
could not but prove detrimental to both, and fraught with those evils, both
to the trade and to the Indians, that had attended similar rivalries in the
Canadas. To prevent any contest of the kind, therefore, he made known his
plan to the agents of the Northwest Company, and proposed to interest
them, to the extent of one third, in the trade thus to be opened. Some
correspondence and negotiation ensued. The company were aware of the
advantages which would be possessed by Mr. Astor should he be able to
carry his scheme into effect; but they anticipated a monopoly of the trade
beyond the mountains by their establishments in New Caledonia, and were
loth to share it with an individual who had already proved a formidable
competitor in the Atlantic trade. They hoped, too, by a timely move, to
secure the mouth of the Columbia before Mr. Astor would be able to put his
plans into operation; and, that key to the internal trade once in their
possession, the whole country would be at their command. After some
negotiation and delay, therefore, they declined the proposition that had
been made to them, but subsequently despatched a party for the mouth of
the Columbia, to establish a post there before any expedition sent out by
Mr. Astor might arrive.

In the meantime Mr. Astor, finding his overtures rejected, proceeded

fearlessly to execute his enterprise in face of the whole power of the
Northwest Company. His main establishment once planted at the mouth of
the Columbia, he looked with confidence to ultimate success. Being able to
reinforce and supply it amply by sea, he would push his interior posts in
every direction up the rivers and along the coast; supplying the natives at a
lower rate, and thus gradually obliging the Northwest Company to give up
the competition, relinquish New Caledonia, and retire to the other side of
CHAPTER III. 33

the mountains. He would then have possession of the trade, not merely of
the Columbia and its tributaries, but of the regions farther north, quite to the
Russian possessions. Such was a part of his brilliant and comprehensive
plan.

He now proceeded, with all diligence, to procure proper agents and

coadjutors, habituated to the Indian trade and to the life of the wilderness.
Among the clerks of the Northwest Company were several of great capacity
and experience, who had served out their probationary terms, but who,
either through lack of interest and influence, or a want of vacancies, had not
been promoted. They were consequently much dissatisfied, and ready for
any employment in which their talents and acquirements might be turned to
better account.

Mr. Astor made his overtures to several of these persons, and three of them
entered into his views. One of these, Mr. Alexander M'Kay, had
accompanied Sir Alexander Mackenzie in both of his expeditions to the
northwest coast of America in 1789 and 1793. The other two were Duncan
M'Dougal and Donald M'Kenzie. To these were subsequently added Mr.
Wilson Price Hunt, of New Jersey. As this gentleman was a native born
citizen of the United States, a person of great probity and worth, he was
selected by Mr. Astor to be his chief agent, and to represent him in the
contemplated establishment.

On the 23d of June, 1810, articles of agreement were entered into between
Mr. Astor and those four gentlemen, acting for themselves and for the
several persons who had already agreed to become, or should thereafter
become, associated under the firm of "The Pacific Fur Company."

According to these articles, Mr. Astor was to be at the head of the

company, and to manage its affairs in New York. He was to furnish vessels,
goods, provisions, arms, ammunition, and all other requisites for the
enterprise at first cost and charges, provided that they did not, at any time,
involve an advance of more than four hundred thousand dollars.
CHAPTER III. 34

The stock of the company was to be divided into a hundred equal shares,
with the profits accruing thereon. Fifty shares were to be at the disposition
of Mr. Astor, and the other fifty to be divided among the partners and their
associates.

Mr. Astor was to have the privilege of introducing other persons into the
connection as partners, two of whom, at least, should be conversant with
the Indian trade, and none of them entitled to more than three shares.

A general meeting of the company was to be held annually at Columbia

River, for the investigation and regulation of its affairs; at which absent
members might be represented, and might vote by proxy under certain
specified conditions.

The association, if successful, was to continue for twenty years; but the
parties had full power to abandon and dissolve it within the first five years,
should it be found unprofitable. For this term Mr. Astor covenanted to bear
all the loss that might be incurred; after which it was to be borne by all the
partners, in proportion to their respective shares.

The parties of the second part were to execute faithfully such duties as
might be assigned to them by a majority of the company on the northwest
coast, and to repair to such place or places as the majority might direct.

An agent, appointed for the term of five years, was to reside at the principal
establishment on the northwest coast, and Wilson Price Hunt was the one
chosen for the first term. Should the interests of the concern at any time
require his absence, a person was to be appointed, in general meeting, to
take his place.

Such were the leading conditions of this ascociation; we shall now proceed
to relate the various hardy and eventful expeditions, by sea and land, to
which it gave rise.

* Carver's Travels, Introd. b. iii. Philad. 1796. ** Carver's Travels, p. 360.

*** On this point Mr. Jefferson's memory was in error. The proposition
CHAPTER IV. 35

alluded to was the one, already mentioned, for the establishment of an

American Fur Company in the Atlantic States. The great enterprise beyond
the mountains, that was to sweep the shores of the Pacific, originated in the
mind of Mr. Astor, and was proposed by him to the government.

CHAPTER IV.

Two Expeditions Set on Foot.− The Tonquin and Her Crew.− Captain
Thorn, His Character.− The Partners and Clerks − Canadian Voyageurs,
Their Habits, Employments, Dress, Character, Songs− Expedition of a
Canadian Boat and Its Crew by Land and Water.− Arrival at New York.−
Preparations for a Sea Voyage.− Northwest Braggarts. −Underhand
Precautions− Letter of Instructions.

IN prosecuting his great scheme of commerce and colonization, two

expeditions were devised by Mr. Astor, one by sea, the other by land. The
former was to carry out the people, stores, ammunition, and merchandise,
requisite for establishing a fortified trading post at the mouth of Columbia
River. The latter, conducted by Mr. Hunt, was to proceed up the Missouri,
and across the Rocky Mountains, to the same point; exploring a line of
communication across the continent and noting the places where interior
trading posts might be established. The expedition by sea is the one which
comes first under consideration.

A fine ship was provided called the Tonquin, of two hundred and ninety
tons burden, mounting ten guns, with a crew of twenty men. She carried an
assortment of merchandise for trading with the natives of the seaboard and
of the interior, together with the frame of a schooner, to be employed in the
coasting trade. Seeds also were provided for the cultivation of the soil, and
nothing was neglected for the necessary supply of the establishment. The
command of the ship was intrusted to Jonathan Thorn, of New York, a
lieutenant in the United States navy, on leave of absence. He was a man of
courage and firmness, who had distinguished himself in our Tripolitan war,
and, from being accustomed to naval discipline, was considered by Mr.
Astor as well fitted to take charge of an expedition of the kind. Four of the
CHAPTER IV. 36

partners were to embark in the ship, namely, Messrs. M'Kay, M'Dougal,

David Stuart, and his nephew, Robert Stuart. Mr. M'Dougal was
empowered by Mr. Astor to act as his proxy in the absence of Mr. Hunt, to
vote for him and in his name, on any question that might come before any
meeting of the persons interested in the voyage.

Besides the partners, there were twelve clerks to go out in the ship, several
of them natives of Canada, who had some experience in the Indian trade.
They were bound to the service of the company for five years, at the rate of
one hundred dollars a year, payable at the expiration of the term, and an
annual equipment of clothing to the amount of forty dollars. In case of ill
conduct they were liable to forfeit their wages and be dismissed; but,
should they acquit themselves well, the confident expectation was held out
to them of promotion, and partnership. Their interests were thus, to some
extent, identified with those of the company.

Several artisans were likewise to sail in the ship, for the supply of the
colony; but the most peculiar and characteristic part of this motley
embarkation consisted of thirteen Canadian "voyageurs,"who had enlisted
for five years. As this class of functionaries will continually recur in the
course of the following narrations, and as they form one of those distinct
and strongly marked castes or orders of people, springing up in this vast
continent out of geographical circumstances, or the varied pursuits,
habitudes, and origins of its population, we shall sketch a few of their
characteristics for the information of the reader.

The "voyageurs" form a kind of confraternity in the Canadas, like the

arrieros, or carriers of Spain, and, like them, are employed in long internal
expeditions of travel and traffic: with this difference, that the arrieros travel
by land, the voyageurs by water; the former with mules and horses, the
latter with batteaux and canoes. The voyageurs may be said to have sprung
up out of the fur trade, having originally been employed by the early
French merchants in their trading expeditions through the labyrinth of
rivers and lakes of the boundless interior. They were coeval with the
coureurs des bois, or rangers of the woods, already noticed, and, like them,
in the intervals of their long, arduous, and laborious expeditions, were
CHAPTER IV. 37

prone to pass their time in idleness and revelry about the trading posts or
settlements; squandering their hard earnings in heedless conviviality, and
rivaling their neighbors, the Indians, in indolent indulgence and an
imprudent disregard of the morrow.

When Canada passed under British domination, and the old French trading
houses were broken up, the voyageurs, like the coureurs des bois, were for
a time disheartened and disconsolate, and with difficulty could reconcile
themselves to the service of the new− comers, so different in habits,
manners, and language from their former employers. By degrees, however,
they became accustomed to the change, and at length came to consider the
British fur traders, and especially the members of the Northwest Company,
as the legitimate lords of creation.

The dress of these people is generally half civilized, half savage. They wear
a capot or surcoat, made of a blanket, a striped cotton shirt, cloth trousers,
or leathern leggins, moccasins of deer−skin, and a belt of variegated
worsted, from which are suspended the knife, tobacco−pouch, and other
implements. Their language is of the same piebald character, being a
French patois, embroidered with Indian and English words and phrases.

The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild and extensive rovings, in the
service of individuals, but more especially of the fur traders. They are
generally of French descent, and inherit much of the gayety and lightness of
heart of their ancestors, being full of anecdote and song, and ever ready for
the dance. They inherit, too, a fund of civility and complaisance; and,
instead of that hardness and grossness which men in laborious life are apt to
indulge towards each other, they are mutually obliging and
accommodating; interchanging kind offices, yielding each other assistance
and comfort in every emergency, and using the familiar appellations of
"cousin" and "brother" when there is in fact no relationship. Their natural
good−will is probably heightened by a community of adventure and
hardship in their precarious and wandering life.

No men are more submissive to their leaders and employers, more capable
of enduring hardship, or more good−humored under privations. Never are
CHAPTER IV. 38

they so happy as when on long and rough expeditions, toiling up rivers or

coasting lakes; encamping at night on the borders, gossiping round their
fires, and bivouacking in the open air. They are dextrous boatmen, vigorous
and adroit with the oar and paddle, and will row from morning until night
without a murmur. The steersman often sings an old traditionary French
song, with some regular burden in which they all join, keeping time with
their oars; if at any time they flag in spirits or relax in exertion, it is but
necessary to strike up a song of the kind to put them all in fresh spirits and
activity. The Canadian waters are vocal with these little French chansons,
that have been echoed from mouth to mouth and transmitted from father to
son, from the earliest days of the colony; and it has a pleasing effect, in a
still golden summer evening, to see a batteau gliding across the bosom of a
lake and dipping its oars to the cadence of these quaint old ditties, or
sweeping along in full chorus on a bright sunny morning, down the
transparent current of one of the Canada rivers.

But we are talking of things that are fast fading away! The march of
mechanical invention is driving everything poetical before it. The
steamboats, which are fast dispelling the wildness and romance of our lakes
and rivers, and aiding to subdue the world into commonplace, are proving
as fatal to the race of the Canadian voyageurs as they have been to that of
the boatmen of the Mississippi. Their glory is departed. They are no longer
the lords of our internal seas, and the great navigators of the wilderness.
Some of them may still occasionally be seen coasting the lower lakes with
their frail barks, and pitching their camps and lighting their fires upon the
shores; but their range is fast contracting to those remote waters and
shallow and obstructed rivers unvisited by the steamboat. In the course of
years they will gradually disappear; their songs will die away like the
echoes they once awakened, and the Canadian voyageurs will become a
forgotten race, or remembered, like their associates, the Indians, among the
poetical images of past times, and as themes for local and romantic
associations.

An instance of the buoyant temperament and the professional pride of these

people was furnished in the gay and braggart style in which they arrived at
New York to join the enterprise. They were determined to regale and
CHAPTER IV. 39

astonish the people of the "States" with the sight of a Canadian boat and a
Canadian crew. They accordingly fitted up a large but light bark canoe,
such as is used in the fur trade; transported it in a wagon from the banks of
the St. Lawrence to the shores of Lake Champlain; traversed the lake in it,
from end to end; hoisted it again in a wagon and wheeled it off to
Lansingburgh, and there launched it upon the waters of the Hudson. Down
this river they plied their course merrily on a fine summer's day, making its
banks resound for the first time with their old French boat songs; passing
by the villages with whoop and halloo, so as to make the honest Dutch
farmers mistake them for a crew of savages. In this way they swept, in full
song and with regular flourish of the paddle, round New York, in a still
summer evening, to the wonder and admiration of its inhabitants, who had
never before witnessed on their waters, a nautical apparition of the kind.

Such was the variegated band of adventurers about to embark in the

Tonquin on this ardous and doubtful enterprise. While yet in port and on
dry land, in the bustle of preparation and the excitement of novelty, all was
sunshine and promise. The Canadians, especially, who, with their
constitutional vivacity, have a considerable dash of the gascon, were
buoyant and boastful, and great brag arts as to the future; while all those
who had been in the service of the Northwest Company, and engaged in the
Indian trade, plumed themselves upon their hardihood and their capacity to
endure privations. If Mr. Astor ventured to hint at the difficulties they
might have to encounter, they treated them with scorn. They were
"northwesters;" men seasoned to hardships, who cared for neither wind nor
weather. They could live hard, lie hard, sleep hard, eat dogs! − in a word
they were ready to do and suffer anything for the good of the enterprise.
With all this profession of zeal and devotion, Mr. Astor was not
overconfident of the stability and firm faith of these mercurial beings. He
had received information, also, that an armed brig from Halifax, probably
at the instigation of the Northwest Company, was hovering on the coast,
watching for the Tonquin, with the purpose of impressing the Canadians on
board of her, as British subjects, and thus interrupting the voyage. It was a
time of doubt and anxiety, when the relations between the United States
and Great Britain were daily assuming a more precarious aspect and
verging towards that war which shortly ensued. As a precautionary
CHAPTER IV. 40

measure, therefore, he required that the voyageurs, as they were about to

enter into the service of an American association, and to reside within the
limits of the United States, should take the oaths of naturalization as
American citizens. To this they readily agreed, and shortly afterward
assured him that they had actually done so. It was not until after they had
sailed that he discovered that they had entirely deceived him in the matter.

The confidence of Mr. Astor was abused in another quarter. Two of the
partners, both of them Scotchmen, and recently in the service of the
Northwest Company, had misgivings as to an enterprise which might clash
with the interests and establishments protected by the British flag. They
privately waited upon the British minister, Mr. Jackson, then in New York,
laid open to him the whole scheme of Mr. Astor, though intrusted to them
in confidence, and dependent, in a great measure, upon secrecy at the outset
for its success, and inquired whether they, as British subjects, could
lawfully engage in it. The reply satisfied their scruples, while the
information they imparted excited the surprise and admiration of Mr.
Jackson, that a private individual should have conceived and set on foot at
his own risk and expense so great an enterprise.

This step on the part of those gentlemen was not known to Mr. Astor until
some time afterwards, or it might have modified the trust and confidence
reposed in them.

To guard against any interruption to the voyage by the armed brig, said to
be off the harbor, Mr. Astor applied to Commodore Rodgers, at that time
commanding at New York, to give the Tonquin safe convoy off the coast.
The commodore having received from a high official source assurance of
the deep interest which the government took in the enterprise, sent
directions to Captain Hull, at that time cruising off the harbor, in the frigate
Constitution, to afford the Tonquin the required protection when she should
put to sea.

Before the day of embarkation, Mr. Astor addressed a letter of instruction

to the four partners who were to sail in the ship. In this he enjoined them, in
the most earnest manner, to cultivate harmony and unanimity, and
CHAPTER V. 41

recommended that all differences of opinions on points connected with the

objects and interests of the voyage should be discussed by the whole, and
decided by a majority of votes. He, moreover, gave them especial caution
as to their conduct on arriving at their destined port; exhorting them to be
careful to make a favorable impression upon the wild people among whom
their lot and the fortunes of the enterprise would be cast. "If you find them
kind," said he, "as I hope you will, be so to them. If otherwise, act with
caution and forebearance, and convince them that you come as friends."

With the same anxious forethought he wrote a letter of instructions to

Captain Thorn, in which he urged the strictest attention to the health of
himself and his crew, and to the promotion of good−humor and harmony on
board his ship. "To prevent any misunderstanding," added he, "will require
your particular good management." His letter closed with an injunction of
wariness in his intercourse with the natives, a subject on which Mr. Astor
was justly sensible he could not be too earnest. "I must recommend you,"
said he, "to be particularly careful on the coast, and not to rely too much on
the friendly disposition of the natives. All accidents which have as yet
happened there arose from too much confidence in the Indians."

The reader will bear these instructions in mind, as events will prove their
wisdom and importance, and the disasters which ensued in consequence of
the neglect of them.

CHAPTER V.

Sailing of the Tonquin. − A Rigid Commander and a Reckless Crew. −

Landsmen on Shipboard.− Fresh−Water Sailors at Sea.− Lubber Nests. −
Ship Fare.− A Labrador Veteran− Literary Clerks.− Curious Travellers.−
Robinson Crusoe's Island.− Quarter−Deck Quarrels.− Falkland Islands.− A
Wild−Goose Chase.− Port Egmont.− Epitaph Hunting.− Old Mortality−
Penguin Shooting.− Sportsmen Left in the Lurch.−A Hard Pull.− Further
Altercations.− Arrival at Owyhee.
CHAPTER V. 42

ON the eighth of September, 1810, the Tonquin put to sea, where she was
soon joined by the frigate Constitution. The wind was fresh and fair from
the southwest, and the ship was soon out of sight of land and free from the
apprehended danger of interruption. The frigate, therefore, gave her "God
speed," and left her to her course.

The harmony so earnestly enjoined by Mr. Astor on this heterogeneous

crew, and which had been so confidently promised in the buoyant moments
of preparation, was doomed to meet with a check at the very outset.

Captain Thorn was an honest, straighforward, but somewhat dry and

dictatorial commander, who, having been nurtured in the system and
discipline of a ship of war, and in a sacred opinion of the supremacy of the
quarter−deck, was disposed to be absolute lord and master on board of his
ship. He appears, moreover, to have had no great opinion, from the first, of
the persons embarked with him − He had stood by with surly contempt
while they vaunted so bravely to Mr. Astor of all they could do and all they
could undergo; how they could face all weathers, put up with all kinds of
fare, and even eat dogs with a relish, when no better food was to be had. He
had set them down as a set of landlubbers and braggadocios, and was
disposed to treat them accordingly. Mr. Astor was, in his eyes, his only real
employer, being the father of the enterprise, who furnished all funds and
bore all losses. The others were mere agents and subordinates, who lived at
his expense. He evidently had but a narrow idea of the scope and nature of
the enterprise, limiting his views merely to his part of it; everything beyond
the concerns of his ship was out of his sphere; and anything that interfered
with the routine of his nautical duties put him in a passion.

The partners, on the other hand, had been brought up in the service of the
Northwest Company, and in a profound idea of the importance, dignity, and
authority of a partner. They already began to consider themselves on a par
with the M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, the Frobishers, and the other
magnates of the Northwest, whom they had been accustomed to look up to
as the great ones of the earth; and they were a little disposed, perhaps, to
wear their suddenly−acquired honors with some air of pretension. Mr.
Astor, too, had put them on their mettle with respect to the captain,
CHAPTER V. 43

describing him as a gunpowder fellow who would command his ship in fine
style, and, if there was any fighting to do, would "blow all out of the
water."

Thus prepared to regard each other with no very cordial eye, it is not to be
wondered at that the parties soon came into collision. On the very first
night Captain Thorn began his man− of−war discipline by ordering the
lights in the cabin to be extinguished at eight o'clock.

The pride of the partners was immediately in arms. This was an invasion of
their rights and dignities not to be borne. They were on board of their own
ship, and entitled to consult their ease and enjoyment. M'Dougal was the
champion of their cause. He was an active, irritable, fuming, vainglorious
little man, and elevated in his own opinion, by being the proxy of Mr.
Astor. A violent altercation ensued, in the course of which Thorn
threatened to put the partners in irons should they prove refractory; upon
which M'Dougal seized a pistol and swore to be the death of the captain
should he ever offer such an indignity. It was some time before the irritated
parties could be pacified by the more temperate bystanders.

Such was the captain's outset with the partners. Nor did the clerks stand
much higher in his good graces; indeed, he seems to have regarded all the
landsmen on board his ship as a kind of Iive lumber, continually in the way.
The poor voyageurs, too, continually irritated his spleen by their "lubberly"
and unseemly habits, so abhorrent to one accustomed to the cleanliness of a
man−of−war. These poor fresh−water sailors, so vainglorious on shore, and
almost amphibious when on lakes and rivers, lost all heart and stomach the
moment they were at sea. For days they suffered the doleful rigors and
retchings of sea−sickness, lurking below in their berths in squalid state, or
emerging now and then like spectres from the hatchways, in capotes and
blankets, with dirty nightcaps, grizzly beard, lantern visage and unhappy
eye, shivering about the deck, and ever and anon crawling to the sides of
the vessel, and offering up their tributes to the windward, to infinite
annoyance of the captain.
CHAPTER V. 44

His letters to Mr. Astor, wherein he pours forth the bitterness of his soul,
and his seamanlike impatience of what he considers the "lubberly"
character and conduct of those around him, are before us, and are
amusingly characteristic. The honest captain is full of vexation on his own
account, and solicitude on account of Mr. Astor, whose property he
considers at the mercy of a most heterogeneous and wasteful crew.

As to the clerks, he pronounced them mere pretenders, not one of whom

had ever been among the Indians, nor farther to the northwest than
Montreal, nor of higher rank than barkeeper of a tavern or marker of a
billiard−table, excepting one, who had been a school−master, and whom he
emphatically sets down for "as foolish a pedant as ever lived."

Then as to the artisans and laborers who had been brought from Canada and
shipped at such expense, the three most respectable, according to the
captain's account, were culprits, who had fled from Canada on account of
their misdeeds; the rest had figured in Montreal as draymen, barbers,
waiters, and carriole drivers, and were the most helpless, worthless beings
"that ever broke sea− biscuit."

It may easily be imagined what a series of misunderstandings and

cross−purposes would be likely to take place between such a crew and such
a commander. The captain, in his zeal for the health and cleanliness of his
ship, would make sweeping visitations to the "lubber nests" of the unlucky
"voyageurs" and their companions in misery, ferret them out of their berths,
make them air and wash themselves and their accoutrements, and oblige
them to stir about briskly and take exercise.

Nor did his disgust and vexation cease when all hands had recovered from
sea−sickness, and become accustomed to the ship, for now broke out an
alarming keenness of appetite that threatened havoc to the provisions. What
especially irritated the captain was the daintiness of some of his cabin
passengers. They were loud in their complaints of the ship's fare, though
their table was served with fresh pork, hams, tongues, smoked beef, and
puddings. "When thwarted in their cravings for delicacies," Said he, "they
would exclaim it was d−d hard they could not live as they pleased upon
CHAPTER V. 45

their own property, being on board of their own ship, freighted with their
own merchandise. And these," added he, "are the fine fellows who made
such boast that they could 'eat dogs.' "

In his indignation at what he termed their effeminacy, he would swear that

he would never take them to sea again "without having Fly−market on the
forecastle, Covent−garden on the poop, and a cool spring from Canada in
the maintop. "

As they proceeded on their voyage and got into the smooth seas and
pleasant weather of the tropics, other annoyances occurred to vex the spirit
of the captain. He had been crossed by the irritable mood of one of the
partners; he was now excessively annoyed by the good−humor of another.
This was the elder Stuart, who was an easy soul, and of a social disposition.
He had seen life in Canada, and on the coast of Labrador; had been a fur
trader in the former, and a fisherman on the latter; and, in the course of his
experience, had made various expeditions with voyageurs. He was
accustomed, therefore, to the familiarity which prevails between that class
and their superiors, and the gossipings which take place among them when
seated round a fire at their encampments. Stuart was never so happy as
when he could seat himself on the deck with a number of these men round
him, in camping style, smoke together, passing the pipe from mouth to
mouth, after the manner of the Indians, sing old Canadian boat− songs, and
tell stories about their hardships and adventures, in the course of which he
rivaled Sinbad in his long tales of the sea, about his fishing exploits on the
coast of Labrador.

This gossiping familiarity shocked the captain's notions of rank and

subordination, and nothing was so abhorrent to him as the community of
pipe between master and man, and their mingling in chorus in the
outlandish boat−songs.

Then there was another whimsical source of annoyance to him. Some of the
young clerks, who were making their first voyage, and to whom everything
was new and strange, were, very rationally, in the habit of taking notes and
keeping journals. This was a sore abomination to the honest captain, who
CHAPTER V. 46

held their literary pretensions in great contempt. "The collecting of

materials for long histories of their voyages and travels," said he, in his
letter to Mr. Astor, "appears to engross most of their attention." We can
conceive what must have been the crusty impatience of the worthy
navigator, when, on any trifling occurrence in the course of the voyage,
quite commonplace in his eyes, he saw these young landsmen running to
record it in their journals; and what indignant glances he must have cast to
right and left, as he worried about the deck, giving out his orders for the
management of the ship, surrounded by singing, smoking, gossiping,
scribbling groups, all, as he thought, intent upon the amusement of the
passing hour, instead of the great purposes and interests of the voyage.

It is possible the captain was in some degree right in his notions. Though
some of the passengers had much to gain by the voyage, none of them had
anything positively to lose. They were mostly young men, in the heyday of
life; and having got into fine latitudes, upon smooth seas, with a
well−stored ship under them, and a fair wind in the shoulder of the sail,
they seemed to have got into a holiday world, and were disposed to enjoy
it. That craving desire, natural to untravelled men of fresh and lively minds,
to see strange lands, and to visit scenes famous in history or fable, was
expressed by some of the partners and clerks, with respect to some of the
storied coasts and islands that lay within their route. The captain, however,
who regarded every coast and island with a matter−of−fact eye, and had no
more associations connected with them than those laid down in his sea−
chart, considered all this curiosity as exceedingly idle and childish. "In the
first part of the voyage," says he in his letter, "they were determined to have
it said they had been in Africa, and therefore insisted on stopping at the
Cape de Verdes. Next they said the ship should stop on the coast of
Patagonia, for they must see the large and uncommon inhabitants of that
place. Then they must go to the island where Robinson Crusoe had so long
lived. And lastly, they were determined to see the handsome inhabitants of
Easter Island."

To all these resolves, the captain opposed his peremptory veto, as "contrary
to instructions." Then would break forth an unavailing explosion of wrath
on the part of certain of the partners, in the course of which they did not
CHAPTER V. 47

even spare Mr. Astor for his act of supererogation in furnishing orders for
the control of the ship while they were on board, instead of leaving them to
be the judges where it would be best for her to touch, and how long to
remain. The choleric M'Dougal took the lead in these railings, being, as has
been observed, a little puffed up with the idea of being Mr. Astor's proxy.

The captain, however, became only so much the more crusty and dogged in
his adherence to his orders, and touchy and harsh in his dealings with the
passengers, and frequent altercations ensued. He may in some measure
have been influenced by his seamanlike impatience of the interference of
landsmen, and his high notions of naval etiquette and quarter−deck
authority; but he evidently had an honest, trusty concern for the interests of
his employer. He pictured to himself the anxious projector of the enterprise,
who had disbursed so munificently in its outfit, calculating on the zeal,
fidelity, and singleness of purpose of his associates and agents; while they,
on the other hand, having a good ship at their disposal and a deep pocket at
home to bear them out, seemed ready to loiter on every coast, and amuse
themselves in every port.

On the fourth of December they came in sight of the Falkland Islands.

Having been for some time on an allowance of water, it was resolved to
anchor here and obtain a supply. A boat was sent into a small bay to take
soundings. Mr. M'Dougal and Mr. M'Kay took this occasion to go on shore,
but with a request from the captain that they would not detain the ship.
Once on shore, however, they were in no haste to obey his orders, but
rambled about in search of curiosities. The anchorage proving unsafe, and
water difficult to be procured, the captain stood out to sea, and made
repeated signals for those on shore to rejoin the ship, but it was not until
nine at night that they came on board.

The wind being adverse, the boat was again sent on shore on the following
morning, and the same gentlemen again landed, but promised to come off
at a moment's warning; they again forgot their promise in their eager
pursuit of wild geese and seawolves. After a time the wind hauled fair, and
signals were made for the boat. Half an hour elapsed but no boat put off.
The captain reconnoitered the shore with his glass, and, to his infinite
CHAPTER V. 48

vexation, saw the loiterers in the full enjoyment of their

"wildgoose−chase." Nettled to the quick, he immediately made sail. When
those on shore saw the ship actually under way, they embarked with all
speed, but had a hard pull of eight miles before they got on board, and then
experienced but a grim reception, notwithstanding that they came well
laden with the spoils of the chase.

Two days afterwards, on the seventh of December, they anchored at Fort

Egmont, in the same island, where they remained four days taking in water
and making repairs. This was a joyous time for the landsmen. They pitched
a tent on shore, had a boat at their command, and passed their time merrily
in rambling about the island, and coasting along the shores, shooting
sealions, seals, foxes, geese, ducks, and penguins. None were keener in
pursuit of this kind of game than M'Dougal and David Stuart; the latter was
reminded of aquatic sports on the coast of Labrador, and his hunting
exploits in the Northwest.

In the meantime the captain addressed himself steadily to the business of

his ship, scorning the holiday spirit and useless pursuits of his emancipated
messmates, and warning them, from time to time, not to wander away nor
be out of hail. They promised, as usual, that the ship should never
experience a moment's detention on their account, but, as usual, forgot their
promise.

On the morning of the 11th, the repairs being all finished, and the water
casks replenished, the signal was given to embark, and the ship began to
weigh anchor. At this time several of the passengers were dispersed about
the island, amusing themselves in various ways. Some of the young men
had found two inscriptions, in English, over a place where two unfortunate
mariners had been buried in this desert island. As the inscriptions were
worn out by the time and weather, they were playing the part of "Old
Mortality," and piously renewing them. The signal from the ship
summoned them from their labors; they saw the sails unfurled, and that she
was getting under way. The two sporting partners, however, Mr. M'Dougal
and David Stuart, had strolled away to the south of the island in pursuit of
penguins. It would never do to put off without them, as there was but one
CHAPTER V. 49

boat to convey the whole.

While this delay took place on shore, the captain was storming on board.
This was the third time his orders had been treated with contempt, and the
ship wantonly detained, and it should be the last; so he spread all sail and
put to sea, swearing he would leave the laggards to shift for themselves. It
was in vain that those on board made remonstrances and entreaties, and
represented the horrors of abandoning men upon a sterile and uninhabited
island; the sturdy captain was inflexible.

In the meantime the penguin hunters had joined the engravers of

tombstones, but not before the ship was already out at sea. They all, to the
number of eight, threw themselves into their boat, which was about twenty
feet in length, and rowed with might and main. For three hours and a half
did they tug anxiously and severely at the oar, swashed occasionally by the
surging waves of the open sea, while the ship inexorably kept on her
course, and seemed determined to leave them behind.

On board the ship was the nephew of David Stuart, a young man of spirit
and resolution. Seeing, as he thought, the captain obstinately bent upon
abandoning his uncle and the others, he seized a pistol, and in a paroxysm
of wrath swore he would blow out the captain's brains, unless he put about
or shortened sail.

Fortunately for all parties, the wind just then came ahead, and the boat was
enabled to reach the ship; otherwise, disastrous circumstances might have
ensued. We can hardly believe that the captain really intended to carry his
threat into full effect, and rather think he meant to let the laggards off for a
long pull and a hearty fright. He declared, however, in his letter to Mr.
Astor, that he was serious in his threats, and there is no knowing how far
such an iron man may push his notions of authority.

"Had the wind," writes he, "(unfortunately) not hauled ahead soon after
leaving the harbor's mouth, I should positively have left them; and, indeed,
I cannot but think it an unfortunate circumstance for you that it so
happened, for the first loss in this instance would, in my opinion, have
CHAPTER V. 50

proved the best, as they seem to have no idea of the value of property, nor
any apparent regard for your interest, although interwoven with their own."

This, it must be confessed, was acting with a high hand, and carrying a
regard to the owner's property to a dangerous length. Various petty feuds
occurred also between him and the partners in respect to the goods on board
ship, some articles of which they wished to distribute for clothing among
the men, or for other purposes which they deemed essential. The captain,
however, kept a mastiff watch upon the cargo, and growled and snapped if
they but offered to touch box or bale. "It was contrary to orders; it would
forfeit his insurance; it was out of all rule." It was in vain they insisted upon
their right to do so, as part owners, and as acting for the good of the
enterprise; the captain only stuck to his point the more stanchly. They
consoled themselves, therefore, by declaring, that as soon as they made
land, they would assert their rights, and do with ship and cargo as they
pleased.

Beside these feuds between the captain and the partners, there were feuds
between the partners themselves, occasioned, in some measure, by jealousy
of rank. M'Dougal and M'Kay began to draw plans for the fort, and other
buildings of the intended establishment. They agreed very well as to the
outline and dimensions, which were on a sufficiently grand scale; but when
they came to arrange the details, fierce disputes arose, and they would
quarrel by the hour about the distribution of the doors and windows. Many
were the hard words and hard names bandied between them on these
occasions, according to the captain's account. Each accused the other of
endeavoring to assume unwarrantable power, and take the lead; upon which
Mr. M'Dougal would vauntingly lay down Mr. Astor's letter, constituting
him his representative and proxy, a document not to be disputed.

These wordy contests, though violent, were brief; "and within fifteen
minutes," says the captain, "they would be caressing each other like
children."

While all this petty anarchy was agitating the little world within the
Tonquin, the good ship prosperously pursued her course, doubled Cape
CHAPTER VI. 51

Horn on the 25th of December, careered across the bosom of the Pacific,
until, on the 11th of February, the snowy peaks of Owyhee were seen
brightening above the horizon.

CHAPTER VI.

Owyhee.− Sandwich Islanders− Their Nautical Talents.− Tamaahmaah.

−His Navy.− His Negotiations.− Views of Mr. Astor With Respect to the
Sandwich Islands− Karakakooa.− Royal Monopoly of Pork.− Description
of the Islanders−Gayeties on Shore.− Chronicler of the Island. −Place
Where Captain Cook was Killed.− John Young, a Nautical Governor.− His
Story.− Waititi − A Royal Residence.− A Royal Visit − Grand
Ceremonials.− Close Dealing− A Royal Pork Merchant− Grievances of a
Matter−of−Fact Man.

OWYHEE, or Hawaii, as it is written by more exact orthographers, is the

largest of the cluster, ten in number, of the Sandwich Islands. It is about
ninety−seven miles in length, and seventy− eight in breadth, rising
gradually into three pyramidal summits or cones; the highest, Mouna Roa,
being eighteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, so as to domineer
over the whole archipelago, and to be a landmark over a wide extent of
ocean. It remains a lasting monument of the enterprising and unfortunate
Captain Cook, who was murdered by the natives of this island.

The Sandwich Islanders, when first discovered, evinced a character

superior to most of the savages of the Pacific isles. They were frank and
open in their deportment, friendly and liberal in their dealings, with an apt
ingenuity apparent in all their rude inventions.

The tragical fate of the discoverer, which, for a time, brought them under
the charge of ferocity, was, in fact, the result of sudden exasperation,
caused by the seizure of their chief.

At the time of the visit of the Tonquin, the islanders had profited, in many
respects, by occasional intercourse with white men; and had shown a
CHAPTER VI. 52

quickness to observe and cultivate those arts important to their mode of

living. Originally they had no means of navigating the seas by which they
were surrounded, superior to light pirogues, which were little competent to
contend with the storms of the broad ocean. As the islanders are not in sight
of each other, there could, therefore, be but casual intercourse between
them. The traffic with white men had put them in possession of vessels of
superior description; they had made themselves acquainted with their
management, and had even made rude advances in the art of ship−building.

These improvements had been promoted, in a great measure, by the energy

and sagacity of one man, the famous Tamaahmaah. He had originally been
a petty eri, or chief; but, being of an intrepid and aspiring nature, he had
risen in rank, and, availing himself of the superior advantages now afforded
in navigation, had brought the whole archipelago in subjection to his arms.
At the time of the arrival of the Tonquin he had about forty schooners, of
from twenty to thirty tons burden, and one old American ship. With these
he held undisputed sway over his insular domains, and carried on
intercourse with the chiefs or governors whom he had placed in command
of the several islands.

The situation of this group of islands, far in the bosom of the vast Pacific,
and their abundant fertility, render them important stopping−places on the
highway to China, or to the northwest coast of America. Here the vessels
engaged in the fur trade touched to make repairs and procure provisions;
and here they often sheltered themselves during the winters that occurred in
their long coasting expeditions.

The British navigators were, from the first, aware of the value of these
islands to the purposes of commerce; and Tamaahmaah, not long after he
had attained the sovereign sway, was persuaded by Vancouver, the
celebrated discoverer, to acknowledge, on behalf of himself, and subjects,
allegiance to the king of Great Britain. The reader cannot but call to mind
the visit which the royal family and court of the Sandwich Islands was, in
late years, induced to make to the court of St. James; and the serio− comic
ceremonials and mock parade which attended that singular travesty of
monarchal style.
CHAPTER VI. 53

It was a part of the wide and comprehensive plan of Mr. Astor to establish a
friendly intercourse between these islands and his intended colony, which
might, for a time, have occasion to draw supplies thence; and he even had a
vague idea of, some time or other, getting possession of one of their islands
as a rendezvous for his ships, and a link in the chain of his commercial
establishments.

On the evening of the 12th of February, the Tonquin anchored in the bay of
Karakakooa, in the island of Owyhee. The surrounding shores were wild
and broken, with overhanging cliffs and precipices of black volcanic rock.
Beyond these, however, the country was fertile and well cultivated, with
inclosures of yams, plantains, sweet potatoes, sugar−canes, and other
productions of warm climates and teeming soils; and the numerous
habitations of the natives were pleasantly sheltered beneath clumps of
cocoanut and bread−fruit trees, which afforded both food and shade. This
mingled variety of garden and grove swept gradually up the sides of the
mountains, until succeeded by dense forests, which in turn gave place to
naked and craggy rocks, until the summits rose into the regions of perpetual
snow.

The royal residence of Tamaahmaah was at this time at another island

named Woahoo. The island of Owyhee was under the command of one of
his eris, or chiefs, who resided at the village of Tocaigh, situated on a
different part of the coast from the bay of Karakakooa.

On the morning after her arrival, the ship was surrounded by canoes and
pirogues, filled with the islanders of both sexes, bringing off supplies of
fruits and vegetables, bananas, plantains, watermelons, yams, cabbages and
taro. The captain was desirous, however, of purchasing a number of hogs,
but there were none to be had −The trade in pork was a royal monopoly,
and no subject of the great Tamaahmaah dared to meddle with it. Such
provisions as they could furnish, however, were brought by the natives in
abundance, and a lively intercourse was kept up during the day, in which
the women mingled in the kindest manner.
CHAPTER VI. 54

The islanders are a comely race, of a copper complexion. The men are tall
and well made, with forms indicating strength and activity; the women with
regular and occasionally handsome features, and a lascivious expression,
characteristic of their temperament. Their style of dress was nearly the
same as in the days of Captain Cook. The men wore the maro, a band one
foot in width and several feet in length, swathed round the loins, and
formed of tappa, or cloth of bark; the kihei, or mantle, about six feet square,
tied in a knot over one shoulder, passed under the opposite arm, so as to
leave it bare, and falling in graceful folds before and behind, to the knee, so
as to bear some resemblance to a Roman toga.

The female dress consisted of the pau, a garment formed of a piece of

tappa, several yards in length and one in width, wrapped round the waist,
and reaching like a petticoat, to the knees. Over this kihei, or mantle, larger
than that of the men, sometimes worn over both shoulders, like a shawl,
sometimes over one only. These mantles were seldom worn by either sex
during the heat of the day, when the exposure of their persons was at first
very revolting to a civilized eye.

Towards evening several of the partners and clerks went on shore, where
they were well received and hospitably entertained. A dance was performed
for their amusement, in which nineteen young women and one man figured
very gracefully, singing in concert, and moving to the cadence of their
song.

All this, however, was nothing to the purpose in the eyes of Captain Thorn,
who, being disappointed in his hope of obtaining a supply of pork, or
finding good water, was anxious to be off. This it was not so easy to effect.
The passengers, once on shore, were disposed, as usual, to profit by the
occasion. The partners had many inquiries to make relative to the island,
with a view to business; while the young clerks were delighted with the
charms and graces of the dancing damsels.

To add to their gratifications, an old man offered to conduct them to the

spot where Captain Cook was massacred. The proposition was eagerly
accepted, and all hands set out on a pilgrimage to the place. The veteran
CHAPTER VI. 55

islander performed his promise faithfully, and pointed out the very spot
where the unfortunate discoverer fell. The rocks and cocoa−trees around
bore record of the fact, in the marks of the balls fired from the boats upon
the savages. The pilgrims gathered round the old man, and drew from him
all the particulars he had to relate respecting this memorable event; while
the honest captain stood by and bit his nails with impatience. To add to his
vexation, they employed themselves in knocking off pieces of the rocks,
and cutting off the bark of the trees marked by the balls, which they
conveyed back to the ship as precious relics.

Right glad, therefore, was he to get them and their treasures fairly on board,
when he made sail from this unprofitable place, and steered for the Bay of
Tocaigh, the residence of the chief or governor of the island, where he
hoped to be more successful in obtaining supplies. On coming to anchor the
captain went on shore, accompanied by Mr. M'Dougal and Mr. M'Kay, and
paid a visit to the governor. This dignitary proved to be an old sailor, by the
name of John Young; who, after being tossed about the seas like another
Sinbad, had, by one of the whimsical freaks of fortune, been elevated to the
government of a savage island. He received his visitors with more hearty
familiarity than personages in his high station are apt to indulge, but soon
gave them to understand that provisions were scanty at Tocaigh, and that
there was no good water, no rain having fallen in the neighborhood in three
years.

The captain was immediately for breaking up the conference and departing,
but the partners were not so willing to part with the nautical governor, who
seemed disposed to be extremely communicative, and from whom they
might be able to procure some useful information. A long conversation
accordingly ensued, in the course of which they made many inquiries about
the affairs of the islands, their natural productions, and the possibility of
turning them to advantage in the way of trade; nor did they fail to inquire
into the individual history of John Young, and how he came to be governor.
This he gave with great condescension, running through the whole course
of his fortunes "even from his boyish days."
CHAPTER VI. 56

He was a native of Liverpool, in England, and had followed the sea from
boyhood, until, by dint of good conduct, he had risen so far in his
profession as to be boatswain of an American ship called the Eleanor,
commanded by Captain Metcalf. In this vessel he had sailed in 1789, on
one of those casual expeditions to the northwest coast, in quest of furs. In
the course of the voyage, the captain left a small schooner, named the Fair
American, at Nootka, with a crew of five men, commanded by his son, a
youth of eighteen. She was to follow on in the track of the Eleanor.

In February, 1790, Captain Metcalf touched at the island of Mowee, one of

the Sandwich group. While anchored here, a boat which was astern of the
Eleanor was stolen, and a seaman who was in it was killed. The natives,
generally, disclaimed the outrage, and brought the shattered remains of the
boat and the dead body of the seaman to the ship. Supposing that they had
thus appeased the anger of the captain, they thronged, as usual, in great
numbers about the vessel, to trade. Captain Metcalf, however, determined
on a bloody revenge. The Eleanor mounted ten guns. All these he ordered
to be loaded with musket−balls, nails, and pieces of old iron, and then fired
them, and the small arms of the ship, among the natives. The havoc was
dreadful; more than a hundred, according to Young's account, were slain.

After this signal act of vengeance, Captain Metcalf sailed from Mowee, and
made for the island of Owyhee, where he was well received by
Tamaahmaah. The fortunes of this warlike chief were at that time on the
rise. He had originally been of inferior rank, ruling over only one or two
districts of Owyhee, but had gradually made himself sovereign of his native
island.

The Eleanor remained some few days at anchor here, and an apparently
friendly intercourse was kept up with the inhabitants. On the 17th March,
John Young obtained permission to pass the night on shore. On the
following morning a signal−gun summoned him to return on board.

He went to the shore to embark, but found all the canoes hauled up on the
beach and rigorously tabooed, or interdicted. He would have launched one
himself, but was informed by Tamaahmaah that if he presumed to do so he
CHAPTER VI. 57

would be put to death.

Young was obliged to submit, and remained all day in great perplexity to
account for this mysterious taboo, and fearful that some hostility was
intended. In the evening he learned the cause of it, and his uneasiness was
increased. It appeared that the vindictive act of Captain Metcalf had
recoiled upon his own head. The schooner Fair American, commanded by
his son, following in his track, had fallen into the hands of the natives to the
southward of Tocaigh Bay, and young Metcalf and four of the crew had
been massacred.

On receiving intelligence of this event, Tamaahmaah had immediately

tabooed all the canoes, and interdicted all intercourse with the ship, lest the
captain should learn the fate of the schooner, and take his revenge upon the
island. For the same reason he prevented Young from rejoining his
countrymen. The Eleanor continued to fire signals from time to time for
two days, and then sailed; concluding, no doubt, that the boatswain had
deserted.

John Young was in despair when he saw the ship make sail; and found
himself abandoned among savages;−and savages, too, sanguinary in their
character, and inflamed by acts of hostility. He was agreeably disappointed,
however, in experiencing nothing but kind treatment from Tamaahmaah
and his people. It is true, he was narrowly watched whenever a vessel came
in sight, lest he should escape and relate what had passed; but at other times
he was treated with entire confidence and great distinction. He became a
prime favorite, cabinet counsellor, and active coadjutor of Tamaahmaah,
attending him in all his excursions, whether of business or pleasure, and
aiding in his warlike and ambitious enterprises. By degrees he rose to the
rank of a chief, espoused one of the beauties of the island, and became
habituated and reconciled to his new way of life; thinking it better, perhaps,
to rule among savages than serve among white men; to be a feathered chief
than a tarpaulin boatswain. His favor with Tamahmaah, never declined; and
when that sagacious, intrepid, and aspiring chieftain had made himself
sovereign over the whole group of islands, and removed his residence to
Woahoo, he left his faithful adherent John Young in command of Owyhee.
CHAPTER VI. 58

Such is an outline of the history of Governor Young, as furnished by

himself; and we regret that we are not able to give any account of the state
maintained by this seafaring worthy, and the manner in which he
discharged his high functions; though it is evident he had more of the
hearty familiarity of the forecastle than the dignity of the gubernatorial
office.

These long conferences were bitter trials to the patience of the captain, who
had no respect either for the governor or his island, and was anxious to
push on in quest of provisions and water. As soon as he could get his
inquisitive partners once more on board, he weighed anchor, and made sail
for the island of Woahoo, the royal residence of Tamaahmaah.

This is the most beautiful island of the Sandwich group. It is forty−six

miles in length and twenty−three in breadth. A ridge of volcanic mountains
extends through the centre, rising into lofty peaks, and skirted by
undulating hills and rich plains, where the cabins of the natives peep out
from beneath groves of cocoanut and other luxuriant trees.

On the 21st of February the Tonquin cast anchor in the beautiful bay before
the village of Waititi, (pronounced Whyteetee.) the abode of Tamaahmaah.
This village contained about two hundred habitations, composed of poles
set in the ground, tied together at the ends, and thatched with grass, and was
situated in an open grove of cocoanuts. The royal palace of Tamaahmaah
was a large house of two stories; the lower of stone, the upper of wood.
Round this his body−guard kept watch, composed of twenty−four men in
long blue cassocks, turned up with yellow, and each armed with a musket.

While at anchor at this place, much ceremonious visiting and long

conferences took place between the potentate of the islands and the partners
of the company. Tamaahmaah came on board of the ship in royal style, in
his double pirogue. He was between fifty and sixty years of age, above the
middle size, large and well made, though somewhat corpulent. He was
dressed in an old suit of regimentals, with a sword by his side, and seemed
somewhat embarrassed by his magnificent attire. Three of his wives
accompanied him. They were almost as tall, and quite as corpulent as
CHAPTER VI. 59

himself; but by no means to be compared with him in grandeur of

habiliments, wearing no other garb than the pan. With him, also, came his
great favorite and confidential counseller, Kraimaker; who, from holding a
post equivalent to that of prime minister, had been familiarly named Billy
Pitt by the British visitors to the islands.

The sovereign was received with befitting ceremonial. The American flag
was displayed, four guns were fired, and the partners appeared in scarlet
coats, and conducted their illustrious guests to the cabin, where they were
regaled with wine. In this interview the partners endeavored to impress the
monarch with a sense of their importance, and of the importance of the
association to which they belonged. They let him know that they were eris,
or chiefs, of a great company about to be established on the northwest
coast, and talked of the probability of opening a trade with his islands, and
of sending ships there occasionally. All this was gratifying and interesting
to him, for he was aware of the advantages of trade, and desirous of
promoting frequent intercourse with white men. He encouraged Europeans
and Americans to settle in his islands and intermarry with his subjects.
There were between twenty and thirty white men at that time resident in the
island, but many of them were mere vagabonds, who remained there in
hopes of leading a lazy and an easy life. For such Tamaahmaah had a great
contempt; those only had his esteem and countenance who knew some
trade or mechanic art, and were sober and industrious.

On the day subsequent to the monarch's visit, the partners landed and
waited upon him in return. Knowing the effect of show and dress upon men
in savage life, and wishing to make a favorable impression as the eris, or
chiefs, of the great American Fur Company, some of them appeared in
Highland plaids and kilts to the great admiration of the natives.

While visits of ceremony and grand diplomatic conferences were going on

between the partners and the king, the captain, in his plain, matter−of−fact
way, was pushing what he considered a far more important negotiation; the
purchase of a supply of hogs. He found that the king had profited in more
ways than one by his intercourse with white men. Above all other arts he
had learned the art of driving a bargain. He was a magnanimous monarch,
CHAPTER VI. 60

but a shrewd pork merchant; and perhaps thought he could not do better
with his future allies, the American Fur Company, than to begin by close
dealing. Several interviews were requisite, and much bargaining, before he
could be brought to part with a bristle of his bacon, and then he insisted
upon being paid in hard Spanish dollars; giving as a reason that he wanted
money to purchase a frigate from his brother George, as he affectionately
termed the king of England. *

At length the royal bargain was concluded; the necessary supply of hogs
obtained, besides several goats, two sheep, a quantity of poultry, and
vegetables in abundance. The partners now urged to recruit their forces
from the natives of this island. They declared they had never seen
watermen equal to them, even among the voyageurs of the Northwest; and,
indeed, they are remarkable for their skill in managing their light craft, and
can swim and dive like waterfowl. The partners were inclined, therefore, to
take thirty or forty with them to the Columbia, to be ernployed in the
service of the company. The captain, however, objected that there was not
room in his vessel for the accommodation of such a number. Twelve, only,
were therefore enlisted for the company, and as many more for the service
of the ship. The former engaged to serve for the term of three years, during
, which they were to be fed and clothed; and at the expiration of the time
were to receive one hundred dollars in merchandise.

And now, having embarked his live−stock, fruits, vegetables, and water, the
captain made ready to set sail. How much the honest man had suffered in
spirit by what he considered the freaks and vagaries of his passengers, and
how little he had understood their humors and intentions, is amusingly
shown in a letter written to Mr. Astor from Woahoo, which contains his
comments on the scenes we have described.

"It would be difficult," he writes, "to imagine the frantic gambols that are
daily played off here; sometimes dressing in red coats, and otherwise very
fantastically, and collecting a number of ignorant natives around them,
telling them that they are the great eris of the Northwest, and making
arrangements for sending three or four vessels yearly to them from the
coast with spars, &c.; while those very natives cannot even furnish a hog to
CHAPTER VI. 61

the ship. Then dressing in Highland plaids and kilts, and making similar
arrangements, with presents of rum, wine, or anything that is at hand. Then
taking a number of clerks and men on shore to the very spot on which
Captain Cook was killed, and each fetching off a piece of the rock or tree
that was touched by the shot. Then sitting down with some white man or
some native who can be a little understood, and collecting the history of
those islands, of Tamaahmaah's wars, the curiosities of the islands, &c.,
preparatory to the histories of their voyages; and the collection is indeed
ridiculously contemptible. To enumerate the thousand instances of
ignorance, filth, &c., − or to particularize all the frantic gambols that are
daily practiced, would require Volumes.

Before embarking, the great eris of the American Fur Company took leave
of their illustrious ally in due style, with many professions of lasting
friendship and promises of future intercourse; while the matter−of−fact
captain anathematized him in his heart for a grasping, trafficking savage; as
shrewd and sordid in his dealings as a white man. As one of the vessels of
the company will, in the course of events, have to appeal to the justice and
magnanimity of this island potentate, we shall see how far the honest
captain was right in his opinion.

* It appears, from the accounts of subsequent voyagers, that Tamaahmaah

afterwards succeeded in his wish of purchasing a large ship. In this he sent
a cargo of sandal−wood to Canton, having discovered that the foreign
merchants trading with him made large profits on this wood, shipped by
them from the islands to the Chinese markets. The ship was manned by
natives, but the officers were Englishmen. She accomplished her voyage,
and returned in safety to the islands, with the Hawaiian flag floating
gloriously in the breeze. The king hastened on board, expecting to find his
sandal−wood converted into crapes and damasks, and other rich stuffs of
China, but found, to his astonishment, by the legerdemain of traffic, his
cargo had all disappeared, and, in place of it, remained a bill of charges
amounting to three thousand dollars. It was some time before he could be
made to comprehend certain of the most important items of the bill, such as
pilotage, anchorage, and custom−house fees; but when he discovered that
maritime states in other countries derived large revenues in this manner, to
CHAPTER VII. 62

the great cost of the merchant, "Well," cried he, "then I will have harbor
fees also." He established them accordingly. Pilotage a dollar a foot on the
draft of each vessel. Anchorage from sixty to seventy dollars. In this way
he greatly increased the royal revenue, and turned his China speculation to
account.

CHAPTER VII.

Departure From the Sandwich Islands.− Misunderstandings− Miseries of a

Suspicious Man.− Arrival at the Columbia − Dangerous Service. − Gloomy
Apprehensions− Bars and Breakers.− Perils of the Ship. Disasters of a
Boat's Crew.−Burial of a Sandwich Islander.

IT was on the 28th of February that the Tonquin set sail from the Sandwich
Islands. For two days the wind was contrary, and the vessel was detained in
their neighborhood; at length a favorable breeze sprang up, and in a little
while the rich groves, green hills, and snowy peaks of those happy islands
one after another sank from sight, or melted into the blue distance, and the
Tonquin ploughed her course towards the sterner regions of the Pacific.

The misunderstandings between the captain and his passengers still

continued; or rather, increased in gravity. By his altercations and his moody
humors, he had cut himself off from all community of thought, or freedom
of conversation with them. He disdained to ask questions as to their
proceedings, and could only guess at the meaning of their movements, and
in so doing indulged in conjectures and suspicions, which produced the
most whimsical self−torment.

Thus, in one of his disputes with them, relative to the goods on board, some
of the packages of which they wished to open, to take out articles of
clothing for the men or presents for the natives, he was so harsh and
peremptory that they lost all patience, and hinted that they were the
strongest party, and might reduce him to a very ridiculous dilemma, by
taking from him the command.
CHAPTER VII. 63

A thought now flashed across the captain's mind that they really had a plan
to depose him, and that, having picked up some information at Owyhee,
possibly of war between the United States and England, they meant to alter
the destination of the voyage; perhaps to seize upon ship and cargo for their
own use.

Once having conceived this suspicion, everything went to foster it. They
had distributed fire−arms among some of their men, a common precaution
among the fur traders when mingling with the natives. This, however,
looked like preparation. Then several of the partners and clerks and some of
the men, being Scotsmen, were acquainted with the Gaelic, and held long
conversations together in that language. These conversations were
considered by the captain of a "mysterious and unwarranted nature," and
related, no doubt, to some foul conspiracy that was brewing among them.
He frankly avows such suspicions, in his letter to Mr. Astor, but intimates
that he stood ready to resist any treasonous outbreak; and seems to think
that the evidence of preparation on his part had an effect in overawing the
conspirators.

The fact is, as we have since been informed by one of the parties, it was a
mischievous pleasure with some of the partners and clerks, who were
young men, to play upon the suspicious temper and splenetic humors of the
captain. To this we may ascribe many of their whimsical pranks and absurd
propositions, and, above all, their mysterious colloquies in Gaelic.

In this sore and irritable mood did the captain pursue his course, keeping a
wary eye on every movement, and bristling up whenever the detested sound
of the Gaelic language grated upon his ear. Nothing occurred, however,
materially to disturb the residue of the voyage excepting a violent storm;
and on the twenty−second of March, the Tonquin arrived at the mouth of
the Oregon, or Columbia River.

The aspect of the river and the adjacent coast was wild and dangerous. The
mouth of the Columbia is upwards of four miles wide with a peninsula and
promontory on one side, and a long low spit of land on the other; between
which a sand bar and chain of breakers almost block the entrance. The
CHAPTER VII. 64

interior of the country rises into successive ranges of mountains, which, at

the time of the arrival of the Tonquin, were covered with snow.

A fresh wind from the northwest sent a rough tumbling sea upon the coast,
which broke upon the bar in furious surges, and extended a sheet of foam
almost across the mouth of the river. Under these circumstances the captain
did not think it prudent to approach within three leagues, until the bar
should be sounded and the channel ascertained. Mr. Fox, the chief mate,
was ordered to this service in the whaleboat, accompanied by John Martin,
an old seaman, who had formerly visited the river, and by three Canadians.
Fox requested to have regular sailors to man the boat, but the captain would
not spare them from the service of the ship, and supposed the Canadians,
being expert boatmen on lakes and rivers, were competent to the service,
especially when directed and aided by Fox and Martin. Fox seems to have
lost all firmness of spirit on the occasion, and to have regarded the service
with a misgiving heart. He came to the partners for sympathy, knowing
their differences with the captain, and the tears were in his eyes as he
represented his case. "I am sent off," said he, "without seamen to man my
boat, in boisterous weather, and on the most dangerous part of the
northwest coast. My uncle was lost a few years ago on this same bar, and I
am now going to lay my bones alongside of his." The partners sympathized
in his apprehensions, and remonstrated with the captain. The latter,
however, was not to be moved. He had been displeased with Mr. Fox in the
earlier part of the voyage, considering him indolent and inactive; and
probably thought his present repugnance arose from a want of true nautical
spirit. The interference of the partners in the business of the ship, also, was
not calculated to have a favorable effect on a stickler for authority like
himself, especially in his actual state of feeling towards them.

At one o'clock, P.m., therefore, Fox and his comrades set off in the
whaleboat, which is represented as small in size, and crazy in condition. All
eyes were strained after the little bark as it pulled for shore, rising and
sinking with the huge rolling waves, until it entered, a mere speck, among
the foaming breakers, and was soon lost to view. Evening set in, night
succeeded and passed away, and morning returned, but without the return
of the boat.
CHAPTER VII. 65

As the wind had moderated, the ship stood near to the land, so as to
command a view of the river's mouth. Nothing was to be seen but a wild
chaos of tumbling waves breaking upon the bar, and apparently forming a
foaming barrier from shore to shore. Towards night the ship again stood out
to gain sea−room, and a gloom was visible in every countenance. The
captain himself shared in the general anxiety, and probably repented of his
peremptory orders. Another weary and watchful night succeeded, during
which the wind subsided, and the weather became serene.

On the following day, the ship having drifted near the land, anchored in
fourteen fathoms water, to the northward of the long peninsula or
promontory which forms the north side of the entrance, and is called Cape
Disappointment. The pinnace was then manned, and two of the partners,
Mr. David Stuart and Mr. M'Kay, set off in the hope of learning something
of the fate of the whaleboat. The surf, however, broke with such violence
along the shore that they could find no landing place. Several of the natives
appeared on the beach and made signs to them to row round the cape, but
they thought it most prudent to return to the ship.

The wind now springing up, the Tonquin got under way, and stood in to
seek the channel; but was again deterred by the frightful aspect of the
breakers, from venturing within a league. Here she hove to; and Mr.
Mumford, the second mate, was despatched with four hands, in the pinnace,
to sound across the channel until he should find four fathoms depth. The
pinnace entered among the breakers, but was near being lost, and with
difficulty got back to the ship. The captain insisted that Mr. Mumford had
steered too much to the southward. He now turned to Mr. Aiken, an able
mariner, destined to command the schooner intended for the coasting trade,
and ordered him, together with John Coles, sail− maker, Stephen Weekes,
armorer, and two Sandwich Islanders, to proceed ahead and take soundings,
while the ship should follow under easy sail. In this way they proceeded
until Aiken had ascertained the channel, when signal was given from the
ship for him to return on board. He was then within pistol shot, but so
furious was the current, and tumultuous the breakers, that the boat became
unmanageable, and was hurried away, the crew crying out piteously for
assistance. In a few moments she could not be seen from the ship's deck.
CHAPTER VII. 66

Some of the passengers climbed to the mizzen top, and beheld her still
struggling to reach the ship; but shortly after she broached broadside to the
waves, and her case seemed desperate. The attention of those on board of
the ship was now called to their own safety. They were in shallow water;
the vessel struck repeatedly, the waves broke over her, and there was
danger of her foundering. At length she got into seven fathoms water, and
the wind lulling, and the night coming on, cast anchor. With the darkness
their anxieties increased. The wind whistled, the sea roared, the gloom was
only broken by the ghastly glare of the foaming breakers, the minds of the
seamen were full of dreary apprehensions, and some of them fancied they
heard the cries of their lost comrades mingling with the uproar of the
elements. For a time, too, the rapidly ebbing tide threatened to sweep them
from their precarious anchorage. At length the reflux of the tide, and the
springing up of the wind, enabled them to quit their dangerous situation and
take shelter in a small bay within Cape Disappointment, where they rode in
safety during the residue of a stormy night, and enjoyed a brief interval of
refreshing sleep.

With the light of day returned their cares and anxieties. They looked out
from the mast−head over a wild coast, and wilder sea, but could discover
no trace of the two boats and their crews that were missing. Several of the
natives came on board with peltries, but there was no disposition to trade.
They were interrogated by signs after the lost boats, but could not
understand the inquiries.

Parties now Went on shore and scoured the neighborhood. One of these
was headed by the captain. They had not proceeded far when they beheld a
person at a distance in civilized garb. As he drew near he proved to be
Weekes, the armorer. There was a burst of joy, for it was hoped his
comrades were near at hand. His story, however, was one of disaster. He
and his companions had found it impossible to govern their boat, having no
rudder, and being beset by rapid and whirling currents and boisterous
surges. After long struggling they had let her go at the mercy of the waves,
tossing about, sometimes with her bow, sometimes with her broadside to
the surges, threatened each instant with destruction, yet repeatedly
escaping, until a huge sea broke over and swamped her. Weekes was
CHAPTER VII. 67

overwhelmed by the broiling waves, but emerging above the surface,

looked round for his companions. Aiken and Coles were not to be seen;
near him were the two Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their
clothing that they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the boat
floating near to him he seized hold of it. The two islanders joined him, and,
uniting their forces, they succeeded in turning the boat upon her keel; then
bearing down her stern and rocking her, they forced out so much water that
she was able to bear the weight of a man without sinking. One of the
islanders now got in, and in a little while bailed out the water with his
hands. The other swam about and collected the oars, and they all three got
once more on board.

By this time the tide had swept them beyond the breakers, and Weekes
called on his companions to row for land. They were so chilled and
benumbed by the cold, however, that they lost all heart, and absolutely
refused. Weekes was equally chilled, but had superior sagacity and
self−command. He counteracted the tendency to drowsiness and stupor
which cold produces by keeping himself in constant exercise; and seeing
that the vessel was advancing, and that everything depended upon himself,
he set to work to scull the boat clear of the bar, and into quiet water.

Toward midnight one of the poor islanders expired; his companion threw
himself on his corpse and could not be persuaded to leave him. The dismal
night wore away amidst these horrors: as the day dawned, Weekes found
himself near the land. He steered directly for it, and at length, with the aid
of the surf, ran his boat high upon a sandy beach.

Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of life, he aided
him to leave the boat, and set out with him towards the adjacent woods.
The poor fellow, however, was too feeble to follow him, and Weekes was
soon obliged to abandon him to his fate and provide for his own safety.
Falling upon a beaten path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came to a
part of the coast, where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld the ship at anchor
and was met by the captain and his party.
CHAPTER VIII. 68

After Weekes had related his adventures, three parties were despatched to
beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate islander. They returned at
night without success, though they had used the utmost diligence. On the
following day the search was resumed, and the poor fellow was at length
discovered lying beneath a group of rocks, his legs swollen, his feet torn
and bloody from walking through bushes and briars, and himself half− dead
with cold, hunger, and fatigue. Weekes and this islander were the only
survivors of the crew of the jolly−boat, and no trace was ever discovered of
Fox and his party. Thus eight men were lost on the first approach to the
coast; a commencement that cast a gloom over the spirits of the whole
party, and was regarded by some of the superstitious as an omen that boded
no good to the enterprise.

Towards night the Sandwich Islanders went on shore, to bury the body of
their unfortunate countryman who had perished in the boat. On arriving at
the place where it had been left, they dug a grave in the sand, in which they
deposited the corpse, with a biscuit under one of the arms, some lard under
the chin, and a small quantity of tobacco, as provisions for its journey in the
land of spirits. Having covered the body with sand and flints, they kneeled
along the grave in a double row, with their faces turned to the east, while
one who officiated as a priest sprinkled them with water from a hat. In so
doing he recited a kind of prayer or invocation, to which, at intervals, the
others made responses. Such were the simple rites performed by these poor
savages at the grave of their comrade on the shores of a strange land; and
when these were done, they rose and returned in silence to the ship, without
once casting a look behind.

CHAPTER VIII.

Mouth of the Columbia.− The Native Tribes.− Their Fishing.− Their

Canoes.− Bold Navigators− Equestrian Indians and Piscatory Indians,
Difference in Their Physical Organization.− Search for a Trading Site. −
Expedition of M'Dougal and David Stuart− Comcomly, the OneEyed
Chieftain.− Influence of Wealth in Savage Life.− Slavery Among the
Natives.−An Aristocracy of Flatheads.− Hospitality Among the Chinooks−
CHAPTER VIII. 69

Comcomly's Daughter.− Her Conquest.

THE Columbia, or Oregon, for the distance of thirty or forty miles from its
entrance into the sea, is, properly speaking, a mere estuary, indented by
deep bays so as to vary from three to seven miles in width; and is rendered
extremely intricate and dangerous by shoals reaching nearly from shore to
shore, on which, at times, the winds and currents produce foaming and
tumultuous breakers. The mouth of the river proper is but about half a mile
wide, formed by the contracting shores of the estuary. The entrance from
the sea, as we have already observed, is bounded on the south side by a flat
sandy spit of land, stretching in to the ocean. This is commonly called Point
Adams. The opposite, or northern side, is Cape Disappointment; a kind of
peninsula, terminating in a steep knoll or promontory crowned with a forest
of pine−trees, and connected with the mainland by a low and narrow neck.
Immediately within this cape is a wide, open bay, terminating at Chinook
Point, so called from a neighboring tribe of Indians. This was called Baker's
Bay, and here the Tonquin was anchored.

The natives inhabiting the lower part of the river, and with whom the
company was likely to have the most frequent intercourse, were divided at
this time into four tribes, the Chinooks, Clatsops, Wahkiacums, and
Cathlamahs. They resembled each other in person, dress, language, and
manner; and were probably from the same stock, but broken into tribes, or
rather hordes, by those feuds and schisms frequent among Indians.

These people generally live by fishing. It is true they occasionally hunt the
elk and deer, and ensnare the water−fowl of their ponds and rivers, but
these are casual luxuries. Their chief subsistence is derived from the
salmon and other fish which abound in the Columbia and its tributary
streams, aided by roots and herbs, especially the wappatoo, which is found
on the islands of the river.

As the Indians of the plains who depend upon the chase are bold and expert
riders, and pride themselves upon their horses, so these piscatory tribes of
the coast excel in the management of canoes, and are never more at home
than when riding upon the waves. Their canoes vary in form and size. Some
CHAPTER VIII. 70

are upwards of fifty feet long, cut out of a single tree, either fir or white
cedar, and capable of carrying thirty persons. They have thwart pieces from
side to side about three inches thick, and their gunwales flare outwards, so
as to cast off the surges of the waves. The bow and stern are decorated with
grotesque figures of men and animals, sometimes five feet in height.

In managing their canoes they kneel two and two along the bottom, sitting
on their heels, and wielding paddles from four to five feet long, while one
sits on the stern and steers with a paddle of the same kind. The women are
equally expert with the men in managing the canoe, and generally take the
helm.

It is surprising to see with what fearless unconcern these savages venture in

their light barks upon the roughest and most tempestuous seas. They seem
to ride upon the waves like sea−fowl. Should a surge throw the canoe upon
its side and endanger its overturn, those to windward lean over the upper
gunwale, thrust their paddles deep into the wave, apparently catch the water
and force it under the canoe, and by this action not merely regain III an
equilibrium, but give their bark a vigorous impulse forward.

The effect of different modes of life upon the human frame and human
character is strikingly instanced in the contrast between the hunting Indians
of the prairies, and the piscatory Indians of the sea−coast. The former,
continually on horseback scouring the plains, gaining their food by hardy
exercise, and subsisting chiefly on flesh, are generally tall, sinewy, meagre,
but well formed, and of bold and fierce deportment: the latter, lounging
about the river banks, or squatting and curved up in their canoes, are
generally low in stature, ill−shaped, with crooked legs, thick ankles, and
broad flat feet. They are inferior also in muscular power and activity, and in
game qualities and appearance, to their hard−riding brethren of the prairies.

Having premised these few particulars concerning the neighboring Indians,

we will return to the immediate concerns of the Tonquin and her crew.

Further search was made for Mr. Fox and his party, but with no better
success, and they were at length given up as lost. In the meantime, the
CHAPTER VIII. 71

captain and some of the partners explored the river for some distance in a
large boat, to select a suitable place for the trading post. Their old
jealousies and differences continued; they never could coincide in their
choice, and the captain objected altogether to any site so high up the river.
They all returned, therefore, to Baker's Bay in no very good humor. The
partners proposed to examine the opposite shore, but the captain was
impatient of any further delay. His eagerness to "get on" had increased
upon him. He thought all these excursions a sheer loss of time, and was
resolved to land at once, build a shelter for the reception of that part of his
cargo destined for the use of the settlement, and, having cleared his ship of
it and of his irksome shipmates, to depart upon the prosecution of his
coasting voyage, according to orders.

On the following day, therefore, without troubling himself to consult the

partners, he landed in Baker's Bay, and proceeded to erect a shed for the
reception of the rigging, equipments, and stores of the schooner that was to
be built for the use of the settlement.

This dogged determination on the part of the sturdy captain gave high
offense to Mr. M'Dougal, who now considered himself at the head of the
concern, as Mr. Astor's representative and proxy. He set off the same day,
(April 5th) accompanied by David Stuart, for the southern shore, intending
to be back by the seventh. Not having the captain to contend with, they
soon pitched upon a spot which appeared to them favorable for the intended
establishment. It was on a point of land called Point George, having a very
good harbor, where vessels, not exceeding two hundred tons burden, might
anchor within fifty yards of the shore.

After a day thus profitably spent, they recrossed the river, but landed on the
northern shore several miles above the anchoring ground of the Tonquin, in
the neighborhood of Chinooks, and visited the village of that tribe. Here
they were received with great hospitality by the chief, who was named
Comcomly, a shrewd old savage, with but one eye, who will occasionally
figure in this narrative. Each village forms a petty sovereignty, governed by
its own chief, who, however, possesses but little authority, unless he be a
man of wealth and substance; that is to say, possessed of canoe, slaves, and
CHAPTER VIII. 72

wives. The greater the number of these, the greater is the chief. How many
wives this one−eyed potentate maintained we are not told, but he certainly
possessed great sway, not merely over his own tribe, but over the
neighborhood.

Having mentioned slaves, we would observe that slavery exists among

several of the tribes beyond the Rocky Mountains. The slaves are well
treated while in good health, but occupied in all kinds of drudgery. Should
they become useless, however, by sickness or old age, they are totally
neglected, and left to perish; nor is any respect paid to their bodies after
death.

A singular custom prevails, not merely among the Chinooks, but among
most of the tribes about this part of the coast, which is the flattening of the
forehead. The process by which this deformity is effected commences
immediately after birth. The infant is laid in a wooden trough, by way of
cradle. The end on which the head reposes is higher than the rest. A
padding is placed on the forehead of the infant, with a piece of bark above
it, and is pressed down by cords, which pass through holes on each side of
the trough. As the tightening of the padding and the pressing of the head to
the board is gradual, the process is said not to be attended with much pain.
The appearance of the infant, however, while in this state of compression,
is whimsically hideous, and "its little black eyes," we are told, "being
forced out by the tightness of the bandages, resemble those of a mouse
choked in a trap."

About a year's pressure is sufficient to produce the desired effect, at the end
of which time the child emerges from its bandages a complete flathead, and
continues so through life. It must be noted that this flattening of the head
has something in it of aristocratical significancy, like the crippling of the
feet among the Chinese ladies of quality. At any rate, it is a sign of
freedom. No slave is permitted to bestow this enviable deformity upon his
child; all the slaves, therefore, are roundheads.

With this worthy tribe of Chinooks the two partners passed a part of the day
very agreeably. M'Dougal, who was somewhat vain of his official rank, had
CHAPTER VIII. 73

given it to be understood that they were two chiefs of a great trading

company, about to be established here, and the quick−sighted, though
one−eyed chief, who was somewhat practiced in traffic with white men,
immediately perceived the policy of cultivating the friendship of two such
important visitors. He regaled them, therefore, to the best of his ability,
with abundance of salmon and wappatoo. The next morning, April 7th, they
prepared to return to the vessel, according to promise. They had eleven
miles of open bay to traverse; the wind was fresh, the waves ran high.
Comcomly remonstrated with them on the hazard to which they would be
exposed. They were resolute, however, and launched their boat, while the
wary chieftain followed at some short distance in his canoe. Scarce had
they rowed a mile, when a wave broke over their boat and upset it. They
were in imminent peril of drowning, especially Mr. M'Dougal, who could
not swim. Comcomly, however, came bounding over the waves in his light
canoe, and snatched them from a watery grave.

They were taken on shore and a fire made, at which they dried their clothes,
after which Comcomly conducted them back to his village. Here everything
was done that could be devised for their entertainment during three days
that they were detained by bad weather. Comcomly made his people
perform antics before them; and his wives and daughters endeavored, by all
the soothing and endearing arts of women, to find favor in their eyes. Some
even painted their bodies with red clay, and anointed themselves with fish
oil, to give additional lustre to their charms. Mr. M'Dougal seems to have
had a heart susceptible to the influence of the gentler sex. Whether or no it
was first touched on this occasion we do not learn; but it will be found, in
the course of this work, that one of the daughters of the hospitable
Comcomly eventually made a conquest of the great eri of the American Fur
Company.

When the weather had moderated and the sea became tranquil, the
one−eyed chief of the Chinooks manned his state canoe, and conducted his
guests in safety to the ship, where they were welcomed with joy, for
apprehensions had been felt for their safety. Comcomly and his people
were then entertained on board of the Tonquin, and liberally rewarded for
their hospitality and services. They returned home highly satisfied,
CHAPTER IX. 74

promising to remain faithful friends and allies of the white men.

CHAPTER IX.

Point George− Founding of Astoria− Indian Visitors.− Their Reception.−

The Captain Taboos the Ship.− Departure of the Tonquin. − Comments on
the Conduct of Captain Thorn.

FROM the report made by the two exploring partners, it was determined
that Point George should be the site of the trading house. These gentlemen,
it is true, were not perfectly satisfied with the place, and were desirous of
continuing their search; but Captain Thorn was impatient to land his cargo
and continue his voyage, and protested against any more of what he termed
"sporting excursions."

Accordingly, on the 12th of April the launch was freighted with all things
necessary for the purpose, and sixteen persons departed in her to commence
the establishment, leaving the Tonquin to follow as soon as the harbor
could be sounded.

Crossing the wide mouth of the river, the party landed, and encamped at the
bottom of a small bay within Point George. The situation chosen for the
fortified post was on an elevation facing to the north, with the wide estuary,
its sand bars and tumultuous breakers spread out before it, and the
promontory of Cape Disappointment, fifteen miles distant, closing the
prospect to the left. The surrounding country was in all the freshness of
spring; the trees were in the young leaf, the weather was superb, and
everything looked delightful to men just emancipated from a long
confinement on shipboard. The Tonquin shortly afterwards made her way
through the intricate channel, an came to anchor in the little bay, and was
saluted from the encampment with three volleys of musketry and three
cheers. She returned the salute with three cheers and three guns.

All hands now set to work cutting down trees, clearing away thickets, and
marking out the place for the residence, storehouse, and powder magazine,
CHAPTER IX. 75

which were to be built of logs and covered with bark. Others landed the
timbers intended for the frame of the coasting vessel, and proceeded to put
them together, while others prepared a garden spot, and sowed the seeds of
various vegetables.

The next thought was to give a name to the embryo metropolis: the one that
naturally presented itself was that of the projector and supporter of the
whole enterprise. It was accordingly named ASTORIA.

The neighboring Indians now swarmed about the place. Some brought a
few land−otter and sea−otter skins to barter, but in very scanty parcels; the
greater number came prying about to gratify their curiosity, for they are
said to be impertinently inquisitive; while not a few came with no other
design than to pilfer; the laws of meum and tuum being but slightly
respected among them. Some of them beset the ship in their canoes, among
whom was the Chinook chief Comcomly, and his liege subjects. These
were well received by Mr. M'Dougal, who was delighted with an
opportunity of entering upon his functions, and acquiring importance in the
eyes of his future neighbors. The confusion thus produced on board, and
the derangement of the cargo caused by this petty trade, stirred the spleen
of the captain, who had a sovereign contempt for the one−eyed chieftain
and all his crew. He complained loudly of having his ship lumbered by a
host of "Indian ragamuffins," who had not a skin to dispose of, and at
length put his positive interdict upon all trafficking on board. Upon this Mr.
M'Dougal was fain to land, and establish his quarters at the encampment,
where he could exercise his rights and enjoy his dignities without control.

The feud, however, between these rival powers still continued, but was
chiefly carried on by letter. Day after day and week after week elapsed, yet
the store−house requisite for the reception of the cargo was not completed,
and the ship was detained in port; while the captain was teased by frequent
requisitions for various articles for the use of the establishment, or the trade
with the natives. An angry correspondence took place, in which he
complained bitterly of the time wasted in "smoking and sporting parties," as
he termed the reconnoitering expeditions, and in clearing and preparing
meadow ground and turnip patches, instead of despatching his ship. At
CHAPTER IX. 76

length all these jarring matters were adjusted, if not to the satisfaction, at
least to the acquiescence of all parties. The part of the cargo destined for
the use of Astoria was landed, and the ship left free to proceed on her
voyage.

As the Tonquin was to coast to the north, to trade for peltries at the
different harbors, and to touch at Astoria on her return in the autumn, it was
unanimously determined that Mr. M'Kay should go in her as supercargo,
taking with him Mr. Lewis as ship's clerk. On the first of June the ship got
under way, and dropped down to Baker's Bay, where she was detained for a
few days by a head wind; but early in the morning of the fifth stood out to
sea with a fine breeze and swelling canvas, and swept off gaily on her fatal
voyage, from which she was never to return!

On reviewing the conduct of Captain Thorn, and examining his peevish and
somewhat whimsical correspondence, the impression left upon our mind is,
upon the whole, decidedly in his favor. While we smile at the simplicity of
his heart and the narrowness of his views, which made him regard
everything out of the direct path of his daily duty, and the rigid exigencies
of the service, as trivial and impertinent, which inspired him with contempt
for the swelling vanity of some of his coadjutors, and the literary exercises
and curious researches of others, we cannot but applaud that strict and
conscientious devotion to the interests of his employer, and to what he
considered the true objects of the enterprise in which he was engaged. He
certainly was to blame occasionally for the asperity of his manners, and the
arbitrary nature of his measures, yet much that is exceptionable in this part
of his conduct may be traced to rigid notions of duty acquired in that
tyrannical school, a ship of war, and to the construction given by his
companions to the orders of Mr. Astor, so little in conformity with his own.
His mind, too, appears to have become almost diseased by the suspicions
he had formed as to the loyalty of his associates, and the nature of their
ultimate designs; yet on this point there were circumstances to, in some
measure, justify him. The relations between the United States and Great
Britain were at that time in a critical state; in fact, the two countries were
on the eve of a war. Several of the partners were British subjects, and might
be ready to desert the flag under which they acted, should a war take place.
CHAPTER X. 77

Their application to the British minister at New York shows the dubious
feeling with which they had embarked in the present enterprise. They had
been in the employ of the Northwest Company, and might be disposed to
rally again under that association, should events threaten the prosperity of
this embryo establishment of Mr. Astor. Besides, we have the fact, averred
to us by one of the partners, that some of them, who were young and
heedless, took a mischievous and unwarrantable pleasure in playing upon
the jealous temper of the captain, and affecting mysterious consultations
and sinister movements.

These circumstances are cited in palliation of the doubts and surmises of

Captain Thorn, which might otherwise appear strange and unreasonable.
That most of the partners were perfectly upright and faithful in the
discharge of the trust reposed in them we are fully satisfied; still the honest
captain was not invariably wrong in his suspicions; and that he formed a
pretty just opinion of the integrity of that aspiring personage, Mr.
M'Dougal, will be substantially proved in the sequel.

CHAPTER X.

Disquieting Rumors From the Interior.− Reconnoitring Party− Preparations

for a Trading Post.− An Unexpected Arrival − A Spy in the Camp.−
Expedition Into the Interior− Shores of the Columbia − Mount Coffin.−
Indian Sepulchre.− The Land of Spirits− Columbian Valley− Vancouver's
Point.−Falls and Rapids.− A Great Fishing Mart.− The Village of Wishram.
− Difference Between Fishing Indians and Hunting Indians− Effects of
Habits of Trade on the Indian Character.− Post Established at the
Oakinagan.

WHILE the Astorians were busily occupied in completing their factory and
fort, a report was brought to them by an Indian from the upper part of the
river, that a party of thirty white men had appeared on the banks of the
Columbia, and were actually building houses at the second rapids. This
information caused much disquiet. We have already mentioned that the
Northwest Company had established posts to the west of the Rocky
CHAPTER X. 78

Mountains, in a district called by them New Caledonia, which extended

from lat. 52 to 55 deg north, being within the British territories. It was now
apprehended that they were advancing within the American limits, and
were endeavoring to seize upon the upper part of the river and forestall the
American Fur Company in the surrounding trade; in which case bloody
feuds might be anticipated, such as had prevailed between the rival fur
companies in former days.

A reconnoitring party was sent up the river to ascertain the truth of the
report. They ascended to the foot of the first rapid, about two hundred
miles, but could hear nothing of any white men being in the neighborhood.

Not long after their return, however, further accounts were received, by two
wandering Indians, which established the fact that the Northwest Company
had actually erected a trading house on the Spokane River, which falls into
the north branch of the Columbia.

What rendered this intelligence the more disquieting was the inability of the
Astorians, in their present reduced state as to numbers, and the exigencies
of their new establishment, to furnish detachments to penetrate the country
in different directions, and fix the posts necessary to secure the interior
trade.

It was resolved, however, at any rate, to advance a countercheck to this post

on the Spokan, and one of the partners, Mr. David Stuart, prepared to set
out for the purpose with eight men and a small assortment of goods. He was
to be guided by the two Indians, who knew the country and promised to
take him to a place not far from the Spokan River, and in a neighborhood
abounding with beaver. Here he was to establish himself and to remain for
a time, provided he found the situation advantageous and the natives
friendly.

On the 15th of July, when Mr. Stuart was nearly ready to embark, a canoe
made its appearance, standing for the harbor, and manned by nine white
men. Much speculation took place who these strangers could be, for it was
too soon to expect their own people, under Mr. Hunt, who were to cross the
CHAPTER X. 79

continent. As the canoe drew near, the British standard was distinguished:
on coming to land, one of the crew stepped on shore, and announced
himself as Mr. David Thompson, astronomer, and partner of the Northwest
Company. According to his account, he had set out in the preceding year
with a tolerably strong party, and a supply of Indian goods, to cross the
Rocky Mountains. A part of his people, however, had deserted him on the
eastern side, and returned with the goods to the nearest Northwest post. He
had persisted in crossing the mountains with eight men, who remained true
to him. They had traversed the higher regions, and ventured near the source
of the Columbia, where, in the spring, they had constructed a cedar canoe,
the same in which they had reached Astoria.

This, in fact, was the party despatched by the Northwest Company to

anticipate Mr. Astor in his intention of effecting a settlement at the mouth
of the Columbia River. It appears, from information subsequently derived
from other sources, that Mr. Thompson had pushed on his course with great
haste, calling at all the Indian villages in his march, presenting them with
British flags, and even planting them at the forks of the rivers, proclaiming
formally that he took possession of the country in the name of the king of
Great Britain for the Northwest Company. As his original plan was
defeated by the desertion of his people, it is probable that he descended the
river simply to reconnoitre, and ascertain whether an American settlement
had been commenced.

Mr. Thompson was, no doubt, the first white man who descended the
northern branch of the Columbia from so near its source. Lewis and Clarke
struck the main body of the river at the forks, about four hundred miles
from its mouth. They entered it from Lewis River, its southern branch, and
thence descended.

Though Mr. Thompson could be considered as little better than a spy in the
camp, he was received with great cordiality by Mr. M'Dougal, who had a
lurking feeling of companionship and good− will for all of the Northwest
Company. He invited him to head− quarters, where he and his people were
hospitably entertained. Nay, further, being somewhat in extremity, he was
furnished by Mr. M'Dougal with goods and provisions for his journey back
CHAPTER X. 80

across the mountains, much against the wishes Of Mr. David Stuart, who
did not think the object of his visit entitled him to any favor.

On the 23rd of July, Mr. Stuart set out upon his expedition to the interior.
His party consisted of four of the clerks, Messrs. Pillet, Ross, M'Lennon,
and Montigny, two Canadian voyageurs, and two natives of the Sandwich
Islands. They had three canoes well laden with provisions, and with goods
and necessities for a trading establishment.

Mr. Thompson and his party set out in company with them, it being his
intention to proceed direct to Montreal. The partners at Astoria forwarded
by him a short letter to Mr. Astor, informing him of their safe arrival at the
mouth of the Columbia, and that they had not yet heard of Mr. Hunt. The
little squadron of canoes set sail with a favorable breeze, and soon passed
Tongue Point, a long, high, and rocky promontory, covered with trees, and
stretching far into the river. Opposite to this, on the northern shore, is a
deep bay, where the Columbia anchored at the time of the discovery, and
which is still called Gray's Bay, from the name of her commander.

From hence, the general course of the river for about seventy miles was
nearly southeast; varying in breadth according to its bays and indentations,
and navigable for vessels of three hundred tons. The shores were in some
places high and rocky, with low marshy islands at their feet, subject to
inundation, and covered with willows, poplars, and other trees that love an
alluvial soil. Sometimes the mountains receded, and gave place to beautiful
plains and noble forests. While the river margin was richly fringed with
trees of deciduous foliage, the rough uplands were crowned by majestic
pines, and firs of gigantic size, some towering to the height of between two
and three hundred feet, with proportionate circumference. Out of these the
Indians wrought their great canoes and pirogues.

At one part of the river, they passed, on the northern side, an isolated rock,
about one hundred and fifty feet high, rising from a low marshy soil, and
totally disconnected with the adjacent mountains. This was held in great
reverence by the neighboring Indians, being one of their principal places of
sepulture. The same provident care for the deceased that prevails among the
CHAPTER X. 81

hunting tribes of the prairies is observable among the piscatory tribes of the
rivers and sea−coast. Among the former, the favorite horse of the hunter is
buried with him in the same funereal mound, and his bow and arrows are
laid by his side, that he may be perfectly equipped for the "happy hunting
grounds" of the land of spirits. Among the latter, the Indian is wrapped in
his mantle of skins, laid in his canoe, with his paddle, his fishing spear, and
other implements beside him, and placed aloft on some rock or other
eminence overlooking the river, or bay, or lake, that he has frequented. He
is thus fitted out to launch away upon those placid streams and sunny lakes
stocked with all kinds of fish and waterfowl, which are prepared in the next
world for those who have acquitted themselves as good sons, good fathers,
good husbands, and, above all, good fishermen, during their mortal sojourn.

The isolated rock in question presented a spectacle of the kind, numerous

dead bodies being deposited in canoes on its summit; while on poles around
were trophies, or, rather, funeral offerings of trinkets, garments, baskets of
roots, and other articles for the use of the deceased. A reverential feeling
protects these sacred spots from robbery or insult. The friends of the
deceased, especially the women, repair here at sunrise and sunset for some
time after his death, singing his funeral dirge, and uttering loud wailings
and lamentations.

From the number of dead bodies in canoes observed upon this rock by the
first explorers of the river, it received the name of Mount Coffin, which it
continues to bear.

Beyond this rock they passed the mouth of a river on the right bank of the
Columbia, which appeared to take its rise in a distant mountain covered
with snow. The Indian name of this river was the Cowleskee. Some miles
further on they came to the great Columbian Valley, so called by Lewis and
Clarke. It is sixty miles in width, and extends far to the southeast between
parallel ridges of mountains, which bound it on the east and west. Through
the centre of this valley flowed a large and beautiful stream, called the
Wallamot, which came wandering for several miles, through a yet
unexplored wilderness. The sheltered situation of this immense valley had
an obvious effect upon the climate. It was a region of great beauty and
CHAPTER X. 82

luxuriance, with lakes and pools, and green meadows shaded by noble
groves. Various tribes were said to reside in this valley, and along the banks
of the Wallamot.

About eight miles above the mouth of the Wallamot the little squadron
arrived at Vancouver's Point, so called in honor of that celebrated voyager
by his lieutenant (Broughton) when he explored the river. This point is said
to present one of the most beautiful scenes on the Columbia; a lovely
meadow, with a silver sheet of limpid water in the center, enlivened by
wild−fowl, a range of hills crowned by forests, while the prospect is closed
by Mount Hood, a magnificent mountain rising into a lofty peak, and
covered with snow; the ultimate landmark of the first explorers of the river.

Point Vancouver is about one hundred miles from Astoria. Here the reflux
of the tide ceases to be perceptible. To this place vessels of two and three
hundred tons burden may ascend. The party under the command of Mr.
Stuart had been three or four days in reaching it, though we have forborne
to notice their daily progress and nightly encampments.

From Point Vancouver the river turned towards the northeast, and became
more contracted and rapid, with occasional islands and frequent
sand−banks. These islands are furnished with a number of ponds, and at
certain seasons abound with swans, geese, brandts, cranes, gulls, plover,
and other wild−fowl. The shores, too, are low and closely wooded, with
such an undergrowth of vines and rushes as to be almost impassable.

About thirty miles above Point Vancouver the mountains again approach
on both sides of the river, which is bordered by stupendous precipices,
covered with the fir and the white cedar, and enlivened occasionally by
beautiful cascades leaping from a great height, and sending up wreaths of
vapor. One of these precipices, or cliffs, is curiously worn by time and
weather so as to have the appearance of a ruined fortress, with towers and
battlements, beetling high above the river, while two small cascades, one
hundred and fifty feet in height, pitch down from the fissures of the rocks.
CHAPTER X. 83

The turbulence and rapidity of the current continually augmenting as they

advanced, gave the voyagers intimation that they were approaching the
great obstructions of the river, and at length they arrived at Strawberry
Island, so called by Lewis and Clarke, which lies at the foot of the first
rapid. As this part of the Columbia will be repeatedly mentioned in the
course of this work, being the scene of some of its incidents, we shall give a
general description of it in this place.

The falls or rapids of the Columbia are situated about one hundred and
eighty miles above the mouth of the river. The first is a perpendicular
cascade of twenty feet, after which there is a swift descent for a mile,
between islands of hard black rock, to another pitch of eight feet divided by
two rocks. About two and a half miles below this the river expands into a
wide basin, seemingly dammed up by a perpendicular ridge of black rock.
A current, however, sets diagonally to the left of this rocky barrier, where
there is a chasm forty−five yards in width. Through this the whole body of
the river roars along, swelling and whirling and boiling for some distance in
the wildest confusion. Through this tremendous channel the intrepid
explorers of the river, Lewis and Clarke, passed in their boats; the danger
being, not from the rocks, but from the great surges and whirlpools.

At the distance of a mile and a half from the foot of this narrow channel is a
rapid, formed by two rocky islands; and two miles beyond is a second great
fall, over a ledge of rocks twenty feet high, extending nearly from shore to
shore. The river is again compressed into a channel from fifty to a hundred
feet wide, worn through a rough bed of hard black rock, along which it
boils and roars with great fury for the distance of three miles. This is called
"The Long Narrows."

Here is the great fishing place of the Columbia. In the spring of the year,
when the water is high, the salmon ascend the river in incredible numbers.
As they pass through this narrow strait, the Indians, standing on the rocks,
or on the end of wooden stages projecting from the banks, scoop them up
with small nets distended on hoops and attached to long handles, and cast
them on the shore.
CHAPTER X. 84

They are then cured and packed in a peculiar manner. After having been
opened and disemboweled, they are exposed to the sun on scaffolds erected
on the river banks. When sufficiently dry, they are pounded fine between
two stones, pressed into the smallest compass, and packed in baskets or
bales of grass matting, about two feet long and one in diameter, lined with
the cured skin of a salmon. The top is likewise covered with fish skins,
secured by cords passing through holes in the edge of the basket. Packages
are then made, each containing twelve of these bales, seven at bottom, five
at top, pressed close to each other, with the corded side upward, wrapped in
mats and corded. These are placed in dry situations, and again covered with
matting. Each of these packages contains from ninety to a hundred pounds
of dried fish, which in this state will keep sound for several years.** (Lewis
and Clarke, vol. ii. p. 32.)

We have given this process at some length, as furnished by the first

explorers, because it marks a practiced ingenuity in preparing articles of
traffic for a market, seldom seen among our aboriginals. For like reason we
would make especial mention of the village of Wishram, at the head of the
Long Narrows, as being a solitary instance of an aboriginal trading mart, or
emporium. Here the salmon caught in the neighboring rapids were
"warehoused," to await customers. Hither the tribes from the mouth of the
Columbia repaired with the fish of the sea−coast, the roots, berries, and
especially the wappatoo, gathered in the lower parts of the river, together
with goods and trinkets obtained from the ships which casually visit the
coast. Hither also the tribes from the Rocky Mountains brought down
horses, bear−grass, quamash, and other commodities of the interior. The
merchant fishermen at the falls acted as middlemen or factors, and passed
the objects of traffic, as it were, cross−handed; trading away part of the
wares received from the mountain tribes to those of the rivers and plains,
and vice versa: their packages of pounded salmon entered largely into the
system of barter, and being carried off in opposite directions, found their
way to the savage hunting camps far in the interior, and to the casual white
traders who touched upon the coast.

We have already noticed certain contrarieties of character between the

Indian tribes, produced by their diet and mode of life; and nowhere are they
CHAPTER X. 85

more apparent than about the falls of the Columbia. The Indians of this
great fishing mart are represented by the earliest explorers as sleeker and
fatter, but less hardy and active, than the tribes of the mountains and
prairies, who live by hunting, or of the upper parts of the river, where fish
is scanty, and the inhabitants must eke out their subsistence by digging
roots or chasing the deer. Indeed, whenever an Indian of the upper country
is too lazy to hunt, yet is fond of good living, he repairs to the falls, to live
in abundance without labor.

"By such worthless dogs as these," says an honest trader in his journal,
which now lies before us, "by such worthless dogs as these are these noted
fishing−places peopled, which, like our great cities, may with propriety be
called the headquarters of vitiated principles."

The habits of trade and the avidity of gain have their corrupting effects
even in the wilderness, as may be instanced in the members of this
aboriginal emporium; for the same journalist denounces them as "saucy,
impudent rascals, who will steal when they can, and pillage whenever a
weak party falls in their power."

That he does not belie them will be evidenced hereafter, when we have
occasion again to touch at Wishram and navigate the rapids. In the present
instance the travellers effected the laborious ascent of this part of the river,
with all its various portages, without molestation, and once more launched
away in smooth water above the high falls.

The two parties continued together, without material impediment, for three
or four hundred miles further up the Columbia; Mr. Thompson appearing to
take great interest in the success of Mr. Stuart, and pointing out places
favorable, as he said, to the establishment of his contemplated trading post.

Mr. Stuart, who distrusted his sincerity, at length pretended to adopt his
advice, and, taking leave of him, remained as if to establish himself, while
the other proceeded on his course towards the mountains. No sooner,
however, had he fairly departed than Mr. Stuart again pushed forward,
under guidance of the two Indians, nor did he stop until he had arrived
CHAPTER XI. 86

within about one hundred and forty miles of the Spokan River, which he
considered near enough to keep the rival establishment in check. The place
which he pitched upon for his trading post was a point of land about three
miles in length and two in breadth, formed by the junction of the
Oakinagan with the Columbia. The former is a river which has its source in
a considerable lake about one hundred and fifty miles west of the point of
junction. The two rivers, about the place of their confluence, are bordered
by immense prairies covered with herbage, but destitute of trees. The point
itself was ornamented with wild flowers of every hue, in which
innumerable humming−birds were "banqueting nearly the livelong day."

The situation of this point appeared to be well adapted for a trading post.
The climate was salubrious, the soil fertile, the rivers well stocked with
fish, the natives peaceable and friendly. There were easy communications
with the interior by the upper waters of the Columbia and the lateral stream
of the Oakinagan, while the downward current of the Columbia furnished a
highway to Astoria.

Availing himself, therefore, of the driftwood which had collected in

quantities in the neighboring bends of the river, Mr. Stuart and his men set
to work to erect a house, which in a little while was sufficiently completed
for their residence; and thus was established the first interior post of the
company. We will now return to notice the progress of affairs at the mouth
of the Columbia.

CHAPTER XI.

Alarm at Astoria.− Rumor of Indian Hostilities.− Preparations for

Defense.− Tragic Fate of the Tonquin.

THE sailing of the Tonquin, and the departure of Mr. David Stuart and his
detachment, had produced a striking effect on affairs at Astoria. The natives
who had swarmed about the place began immediately to drop off, until at
length not an Indian was to be seen. This, at first, was attributed to the want
of peltries with which to trade; but in a little while the mystery was
CHAPTER XI. 87

explained in a more alarming manner. A conspiracy was said to be on foot

among the neighboring tribes to make a combined attack upon the white
men, now that they were so reduced in number. For this purpose there had
been a gathering of warriors in a neighboring bay, under pretex of fishing
for sturgeon; and fleets of canoes were expected to join them from the north
and South. Even Comcomly, the one−eyed chief, notwithstanding his
professed friendship for Mr. M'Dougal, was strongly suspected of being
concerned in this general combination.

Alarmed at rumors of this impending danger, the Astorians suspended their

regular labor, and set to work, with all haste, to throw up temporary works
for refuge and defense. In the course of a few days they surrounded their
dwelling−house and magazines with a picket fence ninety feet square,
flanked by two bastions, on which were mounted four four−pounders.
Every day they exercised themselves in the use of their weapons, so as to
qualify themselves for military duty, and at night ensconced themselves in
their fortress and posted sentinels, to guard against surprise. In this way
they hoped, even in case of attack, to be able to hold out until the arrival of
the party to be conducted by Mr. Hunt across the Rocky Mountains, or until
the return of the Tonquin. The latter dependence, however, was doomed
soon to be destroyed. Early in August, a wandering band of savages from
the Strait of Juan de Fuca made their appearance at the mouth of the
Columbia, where they came to fish for sturgeon. They brought disastrous
accounts of the Tonquin, which were at first treated as fables, but which
were too sadly confirmed by a different tribe that arrived a few days
subsequently. We shall relate the circumstances of this melancholy affair as
correctly as the casual discrepancies in the statements that have reached us
will permit.

We have already stated that the Tonquin set sail from the mouth of the river
on the fifth of June. The whole number of persons on board amounted to
twenty−three. In one of the outer bays they picked up, from a fishing canoe,
an Indian named Lamazee, who had already made two voyages along the
coast and knew something of the language of the various tribes. He agreed
to accompany them as interpreter.
CHAPTER XI. 88

Steering to the north, Captain Thorn arrived in a few days at Vancouver's

Island, and anchored in the harbor of Neweetee, very much against the
advice of his Indian interpreter, who warned him against the perfidious
character of the natives of this part of the coast. Numbers of canoes soon
came off, bringing sea−otter skins to sell. It was too late in the day to
commence a traffic, but Mr. M'Kay, accompanied by a few of the men,
went on shore to a large village to visit Wicananish, the chief of the
surrounding territory, six of the natives remaining on board as hostages. He
was received with great professions of friendship, entertained hospitably,
and a couch of sea−otter skins prepared for him in the dwelling of the
chieftain, where he was prevailed upon to pass the night.

In the morning, before Mr. M'Kay had returned to the ship, great numbers
of the natives came off in their canoes to trade, headed by two sons of
Wicananish. As they brought abundance of sea−otter skins, and there was
every appearance of a brisk trade, Captain Thorn did not wait for the return
of Mr. M'Kay, but spread his wares upon the deck, making a tempting
display of blankets, cloths, knives, beads, and fish−hooks, expecting a
prompt and profitable sale. The Indians, however, were not so eager and
simple as he had supposed, having learned the art of bargaining and the
value of merchandise from the casual traders along the coast. They were
guided, too, by a shrewd old chief named Nookamis, who had grown gray
in traffic with New England skippers, and prided himself upon his
acuteness. His opinion seemed to regulate the market. When Captain Thorn
made what he considered a liberal offer for an otter−skin, the wily old
Indian treated it with scorn, and asked more than double. His comrades all
took their cue from him, and not an otter−skin was to be had at a reasonable
rate.

The old fellow, however, overshot his mark, and mistook the character of
the man he was treating with. Thorn was a plain, straightforward sailor,
who never had two minds nor two prices in his dealings, was deficient in
patience and pliancy, and totally wanting in the chicanery of traffic. He had
a vast deal of stern but honest pride in his nature, and, moreover, held the
whole savage race in sovereign contempt. Abandoning all further attempts,
therefore, to bargain with his shuffling customers, he thrust his hands into
CHAPTER XI. 89

his pockets, and paced up and down the deck in sullen silence. The cunning
old Indian followed him to and fro, holding out a sea−otter skin to him at
every turn, and pestering him to trade. Finding other means unavailing, he
suddenly changed his tone, and began to jeer and banter him upon the mean
prices he offered. This was too much for the patience of the captain, who
was never remarkable for relishing a joke, especially when at his own
expense. Turning suddenly upon his persecutor, he snatched the proffered
otter−skin from his hands, rubbed it in his face, and dismissed him over the
side of the ship with no very complimentary application to accelerate his
exit. He then kicked the peltries to the right and left about the deck, and
broke up the market in the most ignominious manner. Old Nookamis made
for shore in a furious passion, in which he was joined by Shewish, one of
the sons of Wicananish, who went off breathing vengeance, and the ship
was soon abandoned by the natives.

When Mr. M'Kay returned on board, the interpreter related what had
passed, and begged him to prevail upon the captain to make sail, as from
his knowledge of the temper and pride of the people of the place, he was
sure they would resent the indignity offered to one of their chiefs. Mr.
M'Kay, who himself possessed some experience of Indian character, went
to the captain, who was still pacing the deck in moody humor, represented
the danger to which his hasty act had exposed the vessel, and urged him to
weigh anchor. The captain made light of his counsels, and pointed to his
cannon and fire−arms as sufficient safeguard against naked savages.
Further remonstrances only provoked taunting replies and sharp
altercations. The day passed away without any signs of hostility, and at
night the captain retired as usual to his cabin, taking no more than the usual
precautions.

On the following morning, at daybreak, while the captain and Mr. M'Kay
were yet asleep, a canoe came alongside in which were twenty Indians,
commanded by young Shewish. They were unarmed, their aspect and
demeanor friendly, and they held up otter−skins, and made signs indicative
of a wish to trade. The caution enjoined by Mr. Astor, in respect to the
admission of Indians on board of the ship, had been neglected for some
time past, and the officer of the watch, perceiving those in the canoe to be
CHAPTER XI. 90

without weapons, and having received no orders to the contrary, readily

permitted them to mount the deck. Another canoe soon succeeded, the crew
of which was likewise admitted. In a little while other canoes came off, and
Indians were soon clambering into the vessel on all sides.

The officer of the watch now felt alarmed, and called to Captain Thorn and
Mr. M'Kay. By the time they came on deck, it was thronged with Indians.
The interpreter noticed to Mr. M'Kay that many of the natives wore short
mantles of skins, and intimated a suspicion that they were secretly armed.
Mr. M'Kay urged the captain to clear the ship and get under way. He again
made light of the advice; but the augmented swarm of canoes about the
ship, and the numbers still putting off from shore, at length awakened his
distrust, and he ordered some of the crew to weigh anchor, while some
were sent aloft to make sail.

The Indians now offered to trade with the captain on his own terms,
prompted, apparently, by the approaching departure of the ship.
Accordingly, a hurried trade was commenced. The main articles sought by
the savages in barter were knives; as fast as some were supplied they
moved off, and others succeeded. By degrees they were thus distributed
about the deck, and all with weapons.

The anchor was now nearly up, the sails were loose, and the captain, in a
loud and peremptory tone, ordered the ship to be cleared. In an instant, a
signal yell was given; it was echoed on every side, knives and war−clubs
were brandished in every direction, and the savages rushed upon their
marked victims.

The first that fell was Mr. Lewis, the ship's clerk. He was leaning, with
folded arms, over a bale of blankets, engaged in bargaining, when he
received a deadly stab in the back, and fell down the companion−way.

Mr. M'Kay, who was seated on the taffrail, sprang on his feet, but was
instantly knocked down with a war−club and flung backwards into the sea,
where he was despatched by the women in the canoes.
CHAPTER XI. 91

In the meantime Captain Thorn made desperate fight against fearful odds.
He was a powerful as well as a resolute man, but he had come upon deck
without weapons. Shewish, the young chief singled him out as his peculiar
prey, and rushed upon him at the first outbreak. The captain had barely time
to draw a clasp−knife with one blow of which he laid the young savage
dead at his feet. Several of the stoutest followers of Shewish now set upon
him. He defended himself vigorously, dealing crippling blows to right and
left, and strewing the quarter−deck with the slain and wounded. His object
was to fight his way to the cabin, where there were fire−arms; but he was
hemmed in with foes, covered with wounds, and faint with loss of blood.
For an instant he leaned upon the tiller wheel, when a blow from behind,
with a war−club, felled him to the deck, where he was despatched with
knives and thrown overboard.

While this was transacting upon the quarter−deck, a chance−medley fight

was going on throughout the ship. The crew fought desperately with knives,
handspikes, and whatever weapon they could seize upon in the moment of
surprise. They were soon, however, overpowered by numbers, and
mercilessly butchered.

As to the seven who had been sent aloft to make sail, they contemplated
with horror the carnage that was going on below. Being destitute of
weapons, they let themselves down by the running rigging, in hopes of
getting between decks. One fell in the attempt, and was instantly
despatched; another received a death−blow in the back as he was
descending; a third, Stephen Weekes, the armorer, was mortally wounded
as he was getting down the hatchway.

The remaining four made good their retreat into the cabin, where they
found Mr. Lewis, still alive, though mortally wounded. Barricading the
cabin door, they broke holes through the companion−way, and, with the
muskets and ammunition which were at hand, opened a brisk fire that soon
cleared the deck.

Thus far the Indian interpreter, from whom these particulars are derived,
had been an eye−witness to the deadly conflict. He had taken no part in it,
CHAPTER XI. 92

and had been spared by the natives as being of their race. In the confusion
of the moment he took refuge with the rest, in the canoes. The survivors of
the crew now sallied forth, and discharged some of the deck−guns, which
did great execution among the canoes, and drove all the savages to shore.

For the remainder of the day no one ventured to put off to the ship, deterred
by the effects of the fire−arms. The night passed away without any further
attempts on the part of the natives. When the day dawned, the Tonquin still
lay at anchor in the bay, her sails all loose and flapping in the wind, and no
one apparently on board of her. After a time, some of the canoes ventured
forth to reconnoitre, taking with them the interpreter.

They paddled about her, keeping cautiously at a distance, but growing more
and more emboldened at seeing her quiet and lifeless. One man at length
made his appearance on the deck, and was recognized by the interpreter as
Mr. Lewis. He made friendly signs, and invited them on board. It was long
before they ventured to comply. Those who mounted the deck met with no
opposition; no one was to be seen on board; for Mr. Lewis, after inviting
them, had disappeared. Other canoes now pressed forward to board the
prize; the decks were soon crowded, and the sides covered with clambering
savages, all intent on plunder. In the midst of their eagerness and
exultation, the ship blew up with a tremendous explosion. Arms, legs, and
mutilated bodies were blown into the air, and dreadful havoc was made in
the surrounding canoes. The interpreter was in the main−chains at the time
of the explosion, and was thrown unhurt into the water, where he succeeded
in getting into one of the canoes. According to his statement, the bay
presented an awful spectacle after the catastrophe. The ship had
disappeared, but the bay was covered with fragments of the wreck, with
shattered canoes, and Indians swimming for their lives, or struggling in the
agonies of death; while those who had escaped the danger remained aghast
and stupefied, or made with frantic panic for the shore. Upwards of a
hundred savages were destroyed by the explosion, many more were
shockingly mutilated, and for days afterwards the limbs and bodies of the
slain were thrown upon the beach.
CHAPTER XI. 93

The inhabitants of Neweetee were overwhelmed with consternation at this

astounding calamity, which had burst upon them in the very moment of
triumph. The warriors sat mute and mournful, while the women filled the
air with loud lamentations. Their weeping and walling, however, was
suddenly changed into yells of fury at the sight of four unfortunate white
men, brought captive into the village. They had been driven on shore in one
of the ship's boats, and taken at some distance along the coast.

The interpreter was permitted to converse with them. They proved to be the
four brave fellows who had made such desperate defense from the cabin.
The interpreter gathered from them some of the particulars already related.
They told him further, that after they had beaten off the enemy and cleared
the ship, Lewis advised that they should slip the cable and endeavor to get
to sea. They declined to take his advice, alleging that the wind set too
strongly into the bay and would drive them on shore. They resolved, as
soon as it was dark, to put off quietly in the ship's boat, which they would
be able to do unperceived, and to coast along back to Astoria. They put
their resolution into effect; but Lewis refused to accompany them, being
disabled by his wound, hopeless of escape, and determined on a terrible
revenge. On the voyage out, he had repeatedly expressed a presentiment
that he should die by his own hands; thinking it highly probable that he
should be engaged in some contest with the natives, and being resolved, in
case of extremity, to commit suicide rather than be made a prisoner. He
now declared his intention to remain on board of the ship until daylight, to
decoy as many of the savages on board as possible, then to set fire to the
powder magazine, and terminate his life by a signal of vengeance. How
well he succeeded has been shown. His companions bade him a melancholy
adieu, and set off on their precarious expedition. They strove with might
and main to get out of the bay, but found it impossible to weather a point of
land, and were at length compelled to take shelter in a small cove, where
they hoped to remain concealed until the wind should be more favorable.
Exhausted by fatigue and watching, they fell into a sound sleep, and in that
state were surprised by the savages. Better had it been for those unfortunate
men had they remained with Lewis, and shared his heroic death: as it was,
they perished in a more painful and protracted manner, being sacrificed by
the natives to the manes of their friends with all the lingering tortures of
CHAPTER XI. 94

savage cruelty. Some time after their death, the interpreter, who had
remained a kind of prisoner at large, effected his escape, and brought the
tragical tidings to Astoria.

Such is the melancholy story of the Tonquin, and such was the fate of her
brave but headstrong commander, and her adventurous crew. It is a
catastrophe that shows the importance, in all enterprises of moment, to keep
in mind the general instructions of the sagacious heads which devise them.
Mr. Astor was well aware of the perils to which ships were exposed on this
coast from quarrels with the natives, and from perfidious attempts of the
latter to surprise and capture them in unguarded moments. He had
repeatedly enjoined it upon Captain Thorn, in conversation, and at parting,
in his letter of instructions, to be courteous and kind in his dealings with the
savages, but by no means to confide in their apparent friendship, nor to
admit more than a few on board of his ship at a time.

Had the deportment of Captain Thorn been properly regulated, the insult so
wounding to savage pride would never have been given. Had he enforced
the rule to admit but a few at a time, the savages would not have been able
to get the mastery. He was too irritable, however, to practice the necessary
self−command, and, having been nurtured in a proud contempt of danger,
thought it beneath him to manifest any fear of a crew of unarmed savages.

With all his faults and foibles, we cannot but speak of him with esteem, and
deplore his untimely fate; for we remember him well in early life, as a
companion in pleasant scenes and joyous hours. When on shore, among his
friends, he was a frank, manly, sound−hearted sailor. On board ship he
evidently assumed the hardness of deportment and sternness of demeanor
which many deem essential to naval service. Throughout the whole of the
expedition, however, he showed himself loyal, single−minded,
straightforward, and fearless; and if the fate of his vessel may be charged to
his harshness and imprudence, we should recollect that he paid for his error
with his life.

The loss of the Tonquin was a grievous blow to the infant establishment of
Astoria, and one that threatened to bring after it a train of disasters. The
CHAPTER XII. 95

intelligence of it did not reach Mr. Astor until many months afterwards. He
felt it in all its force, and was aware that it must cripple, if not entirely
defeat, the great scheme of his ambition. In his letters, written at the time,
he speaks of it as "a calamity, the length of which he could not foresee." He
indulged, however, in no weak and vain lamentation, but sought to devise a
prompt and efficient remedy. The very same evening he appeared at the
theatre with his usual serenity of countenance. A friend, who knew the
disastrous intelligence he had received, expressed his astonishment that he
could have calmness of spirit sufficient for such a scene of light
amusement. "What would you have me do?" was his characteristic reply;
"would you have me stay at home and weep for what I cannot help?"

CHAPTER XII.

Gloom at Astoria− An Ingenious Stratagem.− The Small−Pox Chief. −

Launching of the Dolly.−An Arrival. − A Canadian Trapper.−A Freeman of
the Forest− An Iroquois Hunter.− Winter on the Columbia.−Festivities of
New Year.

THE tidings of the loss of the Tonquin, and the massacre of her crew,
struck dismay into the hearts of the Astorians. They found themselves a
mere handful of men, on a savage coast, surrounded by hostile tribes, who
would doubtless be incited and encouraged to deeds of violence by the late
fearful catastrophe. In this juncture Mr. M'Dougal, we are told, had
recourse to a stratagem by which to avail himself of the ignorance and
credulity of the savages, and which certainly does credit to his ingenuity.

The natives of the coast, and, indeed, of all the regions west of the
mountains, had an extreme dread of the small−pox; that terrific scourge
having, a few years previously, appeared among them, and almost swept
off entire tribes. Its origin and nature were wrapped in mystery, and they
conceived it an evil inflicted upon them by the Great Spirit, or brought
among them by the white men. The last idea was seized upon by Mr.
M'Dougal. He assembled several of the chieftains whom he believed to be
in the conspiracy. When they were all seated around, he informed them that
CHAPTER XII. 96

he had heard of the treachery of some of their northern brethren towards the
Tonquin, and was determined on vengeance. "The white men among you,"
said he, "are few in number, it is true, but they are mighty in medicine. See
here," continued he, drawing forth a small bottle and holding it before their
eyes, "in this bottle I hold the small−pox, safely corked up; I have but to
draw the cork, and let loose the pestilence, to sweep man, woman, and child
from the face of the earth."

The chiefs were struck with horror and alarm. They implored him not to
uncork the bottle, since they and all their people were firm friends of the
white men, and would always remain so; but, should the small−pox be once
let out, it would run like wildfire throughout the country, sweeping off the
good as well as the bad; and surely he would not be so unjust as to punish
his friends for crimes committed by his enemies.

Mr. M'Dougal pretended to be convinced by their reasoning, and assured

them that, so long as the white people should be unmolested, and the
conduct of their Indian neighbors friendly and hospitable, the phial of wrath
should remain sealed up; but, on the least hostility, the fatal cork should be
drawn.

From this time, it is added, he was much dreaded by the natives, as one
who held their fate in his hands, and was called, by way of preeminence,
"the Great Small−pox Chief."

All this while, the labors at the infant settlement went on with unremitting
assiduity, and, by the 26th of September, a commodious mansion, spacious
enough to accommodate all hands, was completed. It was built of stone and
clay, there being no calcarcous stone in the neighborhood from which lime
for mortar could be procured. The schooner was also finished, and
launched, with the accustomed ceremony, on the second of October, and
took her station below the fort. She was named the Dolly, and was the first
American vessel launched on this coast.

On the 5th of October, in the evening, the little community at Astoria was
enlivened by the unexpected arrival of a detachment from Mr. David
CHAPTER XII. 97

Stuart's post on the Oakinagan. It consisted of two of the clerks and two of
the privates. They brought favorable accounts of the new establishment, but
reported that, as Mr. Stuart was apprehensive there might be a difficulty of
subsisting his whole party throughout the winter, he had sent one half back
to Astoria, retaining with him only Ross, Montigny, and two others. Such is
the hardihood of the Indian trader. In the heart of a savage and unknown
country, seven hundred miles from the main body of his
fellow−adventurers, Stuart had dismissed half of his little number, and was
prepared with the residue to brave all the perils of the wilderness, and the
rigors of a long and dreary winter.

With the return party came a Canadian creole named Regis Brugiere and an
Iroquois hunter, with his wife and two children. As these two personages
belong to certain classes which have derived their peculiar characteristics
from the fur trade, we deem some few particulars concerning them
pertinent to the nature of this work.

Brugiere was of a class of beaver trappers and hunters technically called

"Freemen," in the language of the traders. They are generally Canadians by
birth, and of French descent, who have been employed for a term of years
by some fur company, but, their term being expired, continue to hunt and
trap on their own account, trading with the company like the Indians.
Hence they derive their appellation of Freemen, to distinguish them from
the trappers who are bound for a number of years, and receive wages, or
hunt on shares.

Having passed their early youth in the wilderness, separated almost entirely
from civilized man, and in frequent intercourse with the Indians, they
relapse, with a facility common to human nature, into the habitudes of
savage life. Though no longer bound by engagements to continue in the
interior, they have become so accustomed to the freedom of the forest and
the prairie, that they look back with repugnance upon the restraints of
civilization. Most of them intermarry with the natives, and, like the latter,
have often a plurality of wives. Wanderers of the wilderness, according to
the vicissitudes of the seasons, the migrations of animals, and the plenty or
scarcity of game, they lead a precarious and unsettled existence; exposed to
CHAPTER XII. 98

sun and storm, and all kinds of hardships, until they resemble Indians in
complexion as well as in tastes and habits. From time to time, they bring
the peltries they have collected to the trading houses of the company in
whose employ they have been brought up. Here they traffic them away for
such articles of merchandise or ammunition as they may stand in need of.
At the time when Montreal was the great emporium of the fur trader, one of
these freemen of the wilderness would suddenly return, after an absence of
many years, among his old friends and comrades. He would be greeted as
one risen from the dead; and with the greater welcome, as he returned flush
of money. A short time, however, spent in revelry, would be sufficient to
drain his purse and sate him with civilized life, and he would return with
new relish to the unshackled freedom of the forest.

Numbers of men of this class were scattered throughout the northwest

territories. Some of them retained a little of the thrift and forethought of the
civilized man, and became wealthy among their improvident neighbors;
their wealth being chiefly displayed in large bands of horses, which
covered the prairies in the vicinity of their abodes. Most of them, however,
were prone to assimilate to the red man in their heedlessness of the future.

Such was Regis Brugiere, a freeman and rover of the wilderness. Having
been brought up in the service of the Northwest Company, he had followed
in the train of one of its expeditions across the Rocky Mountains, and
undertaken to trap for the trading post established on the Spokan River. In
the course of his hunting excursions he had either accidentally, or
designedly, found his way to the post of Mr. Stuart, and had been prevailed
upon to ascend the Columbia, and "try his luck" at Astoria.

Ignace Shonowane, the Iroquois hunter, was a specimen of a different class.

He was one of those aboriginals of Canada who had partially conformed to
the habits of civilization and the doctrines of Christianity, under the
influence of the French colonists and the Catholic priests; who seem
generally to have been more successful in conciliating, taming, and
converting the savages, than their English and Protestant rivals. These half−
civilized Indians retained some of the good, and many of the evil qualities
of their original stock. They were first−rate hunters, and dexterous in the
CHAPTER XII. 99

management of the canoe. They could undergo great privations, and were
admirable for the service of the rivers, lakes, and forests, provided they
could be kept sober, and in proper subordination; but once inflamed with
liquor, to which they were madly addicted, all the dormant passions
inherent in their nature were prone to break forth, and to hurry them into
the most vindictive and bloody acts of violence.

Though they generally professed the Roman Catholic religion, yet it was
mixed, occasionally, with some of their ancient superstitions; and they
retained much of the Indian belief in charms and omens. Numbers of these
men were employed by the Northwest Company as trappers, hunters, and
canoe men, but on lower terms than were allowed to white men. Ignace
Shonowane had, in this way, followed the enterprise of the company to the
banks of the Spokan, being, probably, one of the first of his tribe that had
traversed the Rocky Mountains.

Such were some of the motley populace of the wilderness, incident to the
fur trade, who were gradually attracted to the new settlement of Astoria.

The month of October now began to give indications of approaching

winter. Hitherto, the colonists had been well pleased with the climate. The
summer had been temperate, the mercury never rising above eighty
degrees. Westerly winds had prevailed during the spring and the early part
of the summer, and been succeeded by fresh breezes from the northwest. In
the month of October the southerly winds set in, bringing with them
frequent rain.

The Indians now began to quit the borders of the ocean, and to retire to
their winter quarters in the sheltered bosom of the forests, or along the
small rivers and brooks. The rainy season, which commences in October,
continues, with little intermission, until April; and though the winters are
generally mild, the mercury seldom sinking below the freezing point, yet
the tempests of wind and rain are terrible. The sun is sometimes obscured
for weeks, the brooks swell into roaring torrents, and the country is
threatened with a deluge.
CHAPTER XIII. 100

The departure of the Indians to their winter quarters gradually rendered

provisions scanty, and obliged the colonists to send out foraging
expeditions in the Dolly. Still the little handful of adventurers kept up their
spirits in their lonely fort at Astoria, looking forward to the time when they
should be animated and reinforced by the party under Mr. Hunt, that was to
come to them across the Rocky Mountains.

The year gradually wore way. The rain, which had poured down almost
incessantly since the first of October, cleared up towards the evening of the
31st of December, and the morning of the first of January ushered in a day
of sunshine.

The hereditary French holiday spirit of the French voyageurs is hardly to be

depressed by any adversities; and they can manage to get up a fete in the
most squalid situations, and under the most untoward circumstances. An
extra allowance of rum, and a little flour to make cakes and puddings,
constitute a "regale;" and they forget all their toils and troubles in the song
and dance.

On the present occasion, the partners endeavored to celebrate the new year
with some effect. At sunrise the drums beat to arms, the colors were
hoisted, with three rounds of small arms and three discharges of cannon.
The day was devoted to games of agility and strength, and other
amusements; and grog was temperately distributed, together with bread,
butter, and cheese. The best dinner their circumstances could afford was
served up at midday. At sunset the colors were lowered, with another
discharge of artillery. The night was spent in dancing; and, though there
was a lack of female partners to excite their gallantry, the voyageurs kept
up the ball with true French spirit, until three o'clock in the morning. So
passed the new year festival of 1812 at the infant colony of Astoria.

CHAPTER XIII.

Expedition by Land.− Wilson P. Hunt.− His Character.− Donald

M'Kenzie.− Recruiting Service Among the Voyageurs. − A Bark Canoe.−
CHAPTER XIII. 101

Chapel of St. Anne.−Votive Offerings.− Pious Carousals, − A Ragged

Regiment.−Mackinaw.− Picture of a Trading Post.− Frolicking
Voyageurs.−Swells and Swaggerers.− Indian Coxcombs.−A Man of the
North.−Jockeyship of Voyageurs− Inefficacy of Gold.− Weight of a
Feather− Mr. Ramsay Crooks− His Character.− His Risks Among the
Indians.−His Warning Concerning Sioux and Blackfeet.− Embarkation of
Recruits.− Parting Scenes Between Brothers, Cousins, Wives, Sweethearts,
and Pot Companions.

WE have followed up the fortunes of the maritime part of this enterprise to

the shores of the Pacific, and have conducted the affairs of the embryo
establishment to the opening of the new year; let us now turn back to the
adventurous band to whom was intrusted the land expedition, and who
were to make their way to the mouth of the Columbia, up vast rivers, across
trackless plains, and over the rugged barriers of the Rocky Mountains.

The conduct of this expedition, as has been already mentioned, was

assigned to Mr. Wilson Price Hunt, of Trenton, New Jersey, one of the
partners of the company, who was ultimately to be at the head of the
establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. He is represented as a man
scrupulously upright and faithful his dealings, amicable in his disposition,
and of most accommodating manners; and his whole conduct will be found
in unison with such a character. He was not practically experienced in the
Indian trade; that is to say, he had never made any expeditions of traffic
into the heart of the wilderness, but he had been engaged in commerce at
St. Louis, then a frontier settlement on the Mississippi, where the chief
branch of his business had consisted in furnishing Indian traders with goods
and equipments. In this way, he had acquired much knowledge of the trade
at second hand, and of the various tribes, and the interior country over
which it extended.

Another of the partners, Mr. Donald M'Kenzie, was associated with Mr.
Hunt in the expedition, and excelled on those points in which the other was
deficient; for he had been ten years in the interior, in the service of the
Northwest Company, and valued himself on his knowledge of "woodcraft,"
and the strategy of Indian trade and Indian warfare. He had a frame
CHAPTER XIII. 102

seasoned to toils and hardships; a spirit not to be intimidated, and was

reputed to be a "remarkable shot;" which of itself was sufficient to give him
renown upon the frontier.

Mr. Hunt and his coadjutor repaired, about the latter part of July, 1810, to
Montreal, the ancient emporium of the fur trade where everything requisite
for the expedition could be procured. One of the first objects was to recruit
a complement of Canadian voyageurs from the disbanded herd usually to
be found loitering about the place. A degree of jockeyship, however, is
required for this service, for a Canadian voyageur is as full of latent tricks
and vice as a horse; and when he makes the greatest external promise, is
prone to prove the greatest "take in." Besides, the Northwest Company,
who maintained a long established control at Montreal, and knew the
qualities of every voyageur, secretly interdicted the prime hands from
engaging in this new service; so that, although liberal terms were offered,
few presented themselves but such as were not worth having.

From these Mr. Hunt engaged a number sufficient, as he supposed, for

present purposes; and, having laid in a supply of ammunition, provisions,
and Indian goods, embarked all on board one of those great canoes at that
time universally used by the fur traders for navigating the intricate and
often−obstructed rivers. The canoe was between thirty and forty feet long,
and several feet in width; constructed of birch bark, sewed with fibres of
the roots of the spruce tree, and daubed with resin of the pine, instead of
tar. The cargo was made up in packages, weighing from ninety to one
hundred pounds each, for the facility of loading and unloading, and of
transportation at portages. The canoe itself, though capable of sustaining a
freight of upwards of four tons, could readily be carried on men's shoulders.
Canoes of this size are generally managed by eight or ten men, two of
whom are picked veterans, who receive double wages, and are stationed,
one at the bow and the other at the stern, to keep a look−out and to steer.
They are termed the foreman and the steersman. The rest, who ply the
paddles, are called middle men. When there is a favorable breeze, the canoe
is occasionally navigated with a sail.
CHAPTER XIII. 103

The expedition took its regular departure, as usual, from St. Anne's, near
the extremity of the island of Montreal, the great starting−place of the
traders to the interior. Here stood the ancient chapel of St. Anne, the
patroness of the Canadian voyageurs; where they made confession, and
offered up their vows, previous to departing on any hazardous expedition.
The shrine of the saint was decorated with relics and votive offerings hung
up by these superstitious beings, either to propitiate her favor, or in
gratitude for some signal deliverance in the wilderness. It was the custom,
too, of these devout vagabonds, after leaving the chapel, to have a grand
carouse, in honor of the saint and for the prosperity of the voyage. In this
part of their devotions, the crew of Mr. Hunt proved themselves by no
means deficient. Indeed, he soon discovered that his recruits, enlisted at
Montreal, were fit to vie with the ragged regiment of Falstaff. Some were
able−bodied, but inexpert; others were expert, but lazy; while a third class
were expert and willing, but totally worn out, being broken−down veterans,
incapable of toil.

With this inefficient crew he made his way up the Ottawa River, and by the
ancient route of the fur traders, along a succession of small lakes and rivers,
to Michilimackinac. Their progress was slow and tedious. Mr. Hunt was
not accustomed to the management of "voyageurs," and he had a crew
admirably disposed to play the old soldier, and balk their work; and ever
ready to come to a halt, land, make a fire, put on the great pot, and smoke,
and gossip, and sing by the hour.

It was not until the 22d of July that they arrived at Mackinaw, situated on
the island of the same name, at the confluence of −

lakes Huron and Michigan. This famous old French trading post continued
to be a rallying point for a multifarious and motley population. The
inhabitants were amphibious in their habits, most of them being, or having
been voyageurs or canoe men. It was the great place of arrival and
departure of the southwest fur trade. Here the Mackinaw Company had
established its principal post, from whence it communicated with the
interior and with Montreal. Hence its various traders and trappers set out
for their respective destinations about Lake Superior and its tributary
CHAPTER XIII. 104

waters, or for the Mississippi, the Arkansas, the Missouri, and the other
regions of the west. Here, after the absence of a year, or more, they returned
with their peltries, and settled their accounts; the furs rendered in by them
being transmitted in canoes from hence to Montreal. Mackinaw was,
therefore, for a great part of the year, very scantily peopled; but at certain
seasons the traders arrived from all points, with their crews of voyageurs,
and the place swarmed like a hive.

Mackinaw, at that time, was a mere village, stretching along a small bay,
with a fine broad beach in front of its principal row of houses, and
dominated by the old fort, which crowned an impending height. The beach
was a kind of public promenade where were displayed all the vagaries of a
seaport on the arrival of a fleet from a long cruise. Here voyageurs
frolicked away their wages, fiddling and dancing in the booths and cabins,
buying all kinds of knick−knacks, dressing themselves out finely, and
parading up and down, like arrant braggarts and coxcombs. Sometimes they
met with rival coxcombs in the young Indians from the opposite shore, who
would appear on the beach painted and decorated in fantastic style, and
would saunter up and down, to be gazed at and admired, perfectly satisfied
that they eclipsed their pale−faccd competitors.

Now and then a chance party of "Northwesters" appeared at Mackinaw

from the rendezvous at Fort William. These held themselves up as the
chivalry of the fur trade. They were men of iron; proof against cold
weather, hard fare, and perils of all kinds. Some would wear the Northwest
button, and a formidable dirk, and assume something of a military air. They
generally wore feathers in their hats, and affected the "brave." "Je suis un
homme du nord!"−"I am a man of the north,"−one of these swelling fellows
would exclaim, sticking his arms akimbo and ruffling by the Southwesters,
whom he regarded with great contempt, as men softened by mild climates
and the luxurious fare of bread and bacon, and whom he stigmatized with
the inglorious name of pork− eaters. The superiority assumed by these
vainglorious swaggerers was, in general, tacitly admitted. Indeed, some of
them had acquired great notoriety for deeds of hardihood and courage; for
the fur trade had Its heroes, whose names resounded throughout the
wilderness.
CHAPTER XIII. 105

Such was Mackinaw at the time of which we are treating. It now, doubtless,
presents a totally different aspect. The fur companies no longer assemble
there; the navigation of the lake is carried on by steamboats and various
shipping, and the race of traders, and trappers, and voyageurs, and Indian
dandies, have vapored out their brief hour and disappeared. Such changes
does the lapse of a handful of years make in this ever−changing country.

At this place Mr. Hunt remained for some time, to complete his assortment
of Indian goods, and to increase his number of voyageurs, as well as to
engage some of a more efficient character than those enlisted at Montreal.

And now commenced another game of Jockeyship. There were able and
efficient men in abundance at Mackinaw, but for several days not one
presented himself. If offers were made to any, they were listened to with a
shake of the head. Should any one seem inclined to enlist, there were
officious idlers and busybodies, of that class who are ever ready to dissuade
others from any enterprise in which they themselves have no concern.
These would pull him by the sleeve, take him on one side, and murmur in
his ear, or would suggest difficulties outright.

it was objected that the expedition would have to navigate unknown rivers,
and pass through howling wildernesses infested by savage tribes, who had
already cut off the unfortunate voyageurs that had ventured among them;
that it was to climb the Rocky Mountains and descend into desolate and
famished regions, where the traveller was often obliged to subsist on
grasshoppers and crickets, or to kill his own horse for food.

At length one man was hardy enough to engage, and he was used like a
"stool−pigeon," to decoy others; but several days elapsed before any more
could be prevailed upon to join him. A few then came to terms. It was
desirable to engage them for five years, but some refused to engage for
more than three. Then they must have part of their pay in advance, which
was readily granted. When they had pocketed the amount, and squandered
it in regales or in outfits, they began to talk of pecuniary obligations at
Mackinaw, which must be discharged before they would be free to depart;
or engagements with other persons, which were only to be canceled by a
CHAPTER XIII. 106

"reasonable consideration." It was in vain to argue or remonstrate. The

money advanced had already been sacked and spent, and must be lost and
the recruits left behind, unless they could be freed from their debts and
engagements. Accordingly, a fine was paid for one; a judgment for another;
a tavern bill for a third, and almost all had to be bought off from some prior
engagement, either real or pretended.

Mr. Hunt groaned in spirit at the incessant and unreasonable demands of

these worthies upon his purse; yet with all this outlay of funds, the number
recruited was but scanty, and many of the most desirable still held
themselves aloof, and were not to be caught by a golden bait. With these he
tried another temptation. Among the recruits who had enlisted he
distributed feathers and ostrich plumes. These they put in their hats, and
thus figured about Mackinaw, assuming airs of vast importance, as
"voyageurs" in a new company, that was to eclipse the Northwest. The
effect was complete. A French Canadian is too vain and mercurial a being
to withstand the finery and ostentation of the feather. Numbers immediately
pressed into the service. One must have an ostrich plume; another, a white
feather with a red end; a third, a bunch of cock's tails. Thus all paraded
about, in vainglorious style, more delighted with the feathers in their hats
than with the money in their pockets; and considering themselves fully
equal to the boastful "men of the north."

While thus recruiting the number of rank and file, Mr. Hunt was joined by a
person whom he had invited, by letter, to engage as a partner in the
expedition. This was Mr. Ramsay Crooks, a young man, a native of
Scotland, who had served under the Northwest Company, and been
engaged in trading expeditions upon his individual account, among the
tribes of the Missouri. Mr. Hunt knew him personally, and had conceived a
high and merited opinion of his judgment, enterprise, and integrity; he was
rejoiced, therefore, when the latter consented to accompany him. Mr.
Crooks, however, drew from experience a picture of the dangers to which
they would be subjected, and urged the importance of going with a
considerable force. In ascending the upper Missouri they would have to
pass through the country of the Sioux Indians, who had manifested repeated
hostility to the white traders, and rendered their expeditions extremely
CHAPTER XIII. 107

perilous; firing upon them from the river banks as they passed beneath in
their boats, and attacking them in their encampments. Mr. Crooks himself,
when voyaging in company with another trader of the name of M'Lellan,
had been interrupted by these marauders, and had considered himself
fortunate in escaping down the river without loss of life or property, but
with a total abandonment of his trading voyage.

Should they be fortunate enough to pass through the country of the Sioux
without molestation, they would have another tribe still more savage and
warlike beyond, and deadly foes of white men.

These were the Blackfeet Indians, who ranged over a wide extent of
country which they would have to traverse. Under all these circumstances,
it was thought advisable to augment the party considerably. It already
exceeded the number of thirty, to which it had originally been limited; but
it was determined, on arriving at St. Louis, to increase it to the number of
sixty.

These matters being arranged, they prepared to embark; but the

embarkation of a crew of Canadian voyageurs, on a distant expedition, is
not so easy a matter as might be imagined; especially of such a set of
vainglorious fellows with money in both pockets, and cocks' tails in their
hats. Like sailors, the Canadian voyageurs generally preface a long cruise
with a carouse. They have their cronies, their brothers, their cousins, their
wives, their sweethearts, all to be entertained at their expense. They feast,
they fiddle, they drink, they sing, they dance, they frolic and fight, until
they are all as mad as so many drunken Indians. The publicans are all
obedience to their commands, never hesitating to let them run up scores
without limit, knowing that, when their own money is expended, the purses
of their employers must answer for the bill, or the voyage must be delayed.
Neither was it possible, at that time, to remedy the matter at Mackinaw. In
that amphibious community there was always a propensity to wrest the
laws in favor of riotous or mutinous boatmen. It was necessary, also, to
keep the recruits in good humor, seeing the novelty and danger of the
service into which they were entering, and the ease with which they might
at anytime escape it by jumping into a canoe and going downstream.
CHAPTER XIV. 108

Such were the scenes that beset Mr. Hunt, and gave him a foretaste of the
difficulties of his command. The little cabarets and sutlers' shops along the
bay resounded with the scraping of fiddles, with snatches of old French
songs, with Indian whoops and yells, while every plumed and feathered
vagabond had his troop of loving cousins and comrades at his heels. It was
with the utmost difficulty they could be extricated from the clutches of the
publicans and the embraces of their pot companions, who followed them to
the water's edge with many a hug, a kiss on each cheek, and a maudlin
benediction in Canadian French.

It was about the 12th of August that they left Mackinaw, and pursued the
usual route by Green Bay, Fox and Wisconsin rivers, to Prairie du Chien,
and thence down the Mississippi to St. Louis, where they landed on the 3d
of September.

CHAPTER XIV.

St. Louis.− Its Situation.− Motley Population.− French Creole Traders and
Their Dependants.− Missouri Fur Company− Mr. Manuel Lisa. −
Mississippi Boatmen. − Vagrant Indians. − Kentucky Hunters − Old French
Mansion− Fiddling− Billiards− Mr. Joseph Miller − His Character−
Recruits− Voyage Up the Missouri. − Difficulties of the River.− Merits of
Canadian Voyageurs.− Arrival at the Nodowa.− Mr. Robert M'Lellan joins
the Party− John Day, a Virginia Hunter. Description of Him.− Mr. Hunt
Returns to St. Louis.

ST. LOUIS, which is situated on the right bank of the Mississippi River, a
few miles below the mouth of the Missouri, was, at that time, a frontier
settlement, and the last fitting−out place for the Indian trade of the
Southwest. It possessed a motley population, composed of the creole
descendants of the original French colonists; the keen traders from the
Atlantic States; the backwoodsmen of Kentucky and Tennessee; the Indians
and half− breeds of the prairies; together with a singular aquatic race that
had grown up from the navigation of the rivers − the "boatmen of the
Mississippi;− who possessed habits, manners, and almost a language,
CHAPTER XIV. 109

peculiarly their own, and strongly technical. They, at that time, were
extremely numerous, and conducted the chief navigation and commerce of
the Ohio and the Mississippi, as the voyageurs did of the Canadian waters;
but, like them, their consequence and characteristics are rapidly vanishing
before the all−pervading intrusion of steamboats.

The old French houses engaged in the Indian trade had gathered round
them a train of dependents, mongrel Indians, and mongrel Frenchmen, who
had intermarried with Indians. These they employed in their various
expeditions by land and water. Various individuals of other countries had,
of late years, pushed the trade further into the interior, to the upper waters
of the Missouri, and had swelled the number of these hangers−on. Several
of these traders had, two or three years previously, formed themselves into
a company, composed of twelve partners, with a capital of about forty
thousand dollars, called the Missouri Fur Company; the object of which
was, to establish posts along the upper part of that river, and monopolize
the trade. The leading partner of this company was Mr. Manuel Lisa, a
Spaniard by birth, and a man of bold and enterprising character, who had
ascended the Missouri almost to its source, and made himself well
acquainted and popular with several of its tribes. By his exertions, trading
posts had been established, in 1808, in the Sioux country, and among the
Aricara and Mandan tribes; and a principal one, under Mr. Henry, one of
the partners, at the forks of the Missouri. This company had in its employ
about two hundred and fifty men, partly American and partly creole
voyageurs.

All these circumstances combined to produce a population at St. Louis even

still more motley than that at Mackinaw. Here were to be seen, about the
river banks, the hectoring, extravagant bragging boatmen of the
Mississippi, with the gay, grimacing, singing, good−humored Canadian
voyageurs. Vagrant Indians, of various tribes, loitered about the streets.
Now and then a stark Kentucky hunter, in leathern hunting−dress, with rifle
on shoulder and knife in belt, strode along. Here and there were new brick
houses and shops, just set up by bustling, driving, and eager men of traffic
from the Atlantic States; while, on the other hand, the old French mansions,
with open casements, still retained the easy, indolent air of the original
CHAPTER XIV. 110

colonists; and now and then the scraping of a fiddle, a strain of an ancient
French song, or the sound of billiard balls, showed that the happy Gallic
turn for gayety and amusement still lingered about the place.

Such was St. Louis at the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival there, and the
appearance of a new fur company, with ample funds at its command,
produced a strong sensation among the I traders of the place, and awakened
keen jealousy and opposition on the part of the Missouri Company. Mr.
Hunt proceeded to strengthen himself against all competition. For this
purpose, he secured to the interests of the association another of those
enterprising men, who had been engaged in individual traffic with the tribes
of the Missouri. This was a Mr. Joseph Miller, a gentleman well educated
and well informed, and of a respectable family of Baltimore. He had been
an officer in the army of the United States, but had resigned in disgust, on
being refused a furlough, and had taken to trapping beaver and trading
among the Indians. He was easily induced by Mr. Hunt to join as a partner,
and was considered by him, on account of his education and acquirements,
and his experience in Indian trade, a valuable addition to the company.

Several additional men were likewise enlisted at St. Louis, some as

boatmen, and others as hunters. These last were engaged, not merely to kill
game for provisions, but also, and indeed chiefly, to trap beaver and other
animals of rich furs, valuable in the trade. They enlisted on different terms.
Some were to have a fixed salary of three hundred dollars; others were to
be fitted out and maintained at the expense of the company, and were to
hunt and trap on shares.

As Mr. Hunt met with much opposition on the part of rival traders,
especially the Missouri Fur Company, it took him some weeks to complete
his preparations. The delays which he had previously experienced at
Montreal, Mackinaw, and on the way, added to those at St. Louis, had
thrown him much behind his original calculations, so that it would be
impossible to effect his voyage up the Missouri in the present year. This
river, flowing from high and cold latitudes, and through wide and open
plains, exposed to chilling blasts, freezes early. The winter may be dated
from the first of November; there was every prospect, therefore, that it
CHAPTER XIV. 111

would be closed with ice long before Mr. Hunt could reach its upper
waters. To avoid, however, the expense of wintering at St. Louis, he
determined to push up the river as far as possible, to some point above the
settlements, where game was plenty, and where his whole party could be
subsisted by hunting, until the breaking up of the ice in the spring should
permit them to resume their voyage.

Accordingly on the twenty−first of October he took his departure from St.

Louis. His party was distributed in three boats. One was the barge which he
had brought from Mackinaw; another was of a larger size, such as was
formerly used in navigating the Mohawk River, and known by the generic
name of the Schenectady barge; the other was a large keel boat, at that time
the grand conveyance on the Mississippi.

In this way they set out from St. Louis, in buoyant spirits, and soon arrived
at the mouth of the Missouri. This vast river, three thousand miles in
length, and which, with its tributary streams, drains such an immense extent
of country, was as yet but casually and imperfectly navigated by the
adventurous bark of the fur trader. A steamboat had never yet stemmed its
turbulent current. Sails were but of casual assistance, for it required a
strong wind to conquer the force of the stream. The main dependence was
on bodily strength and manual dexterity. The boats, in general, had to be
propelled by oars and setting poles, or drawn by the hand and by grappling
hooks from one root or overhanging tree to another; or towed by the long
cordelle, or towing line, where the shores were sufficiently clear of woods
and thickets to permit the men to pass along the banks.

During this slow and tedious progress the boat would be exposed to
frequent danger from floating trees and great masses of drift− wood, or to
be impaled upon snags and sawyers; that is to say, sunken trees, presenting
a jagged or pointed end above the surface of the water. As the channel of
the river frequently shifted from side to side according to the bends and
sand−banks, the boat had, in the same way, to advance in a zigzag course.
Often a part of the crew would have to leap into the water at the shallows,
and wade along with the towing line, while their comrades on board
toilfully assisted with oar and setting pole. Sometimes the boat would seem
CHAPTER XIV. 112

to be retained motionless, as if spell−bound, opposite some point round

which the current set with violence, and where the utmost labor scarce
effected any visible progress.

On these occasions it was that the merits of the Canadian voyageurs came
into full action. Patient of toil, not to be disheartened by impediments and
disappointments, fertile in expedients, and versed in every mode of
humoring and conquering the wayward current, they would ply every
exertion, sometimes in the boat, sometimes on shore, sometimes in the
water, however cold; always alert, always in good humor; and, should they
at any time flag or grow weary, one of their popular songs, chanted by a
veteran oarsman, and responded to in chorus, acted as a never− failing
restorative.

By such assiduous and persevering labor they made their way about four
hundred and fifty miles up the Missouri, by the 16th of November, to the
mouth of the Nodowa. As this was a good hunting country, and as the
season was rapidly advancing, they determined to establish their winter
quarters at this place; and, in fact, two days after they had come to a halt,
the river closed just above their encampment.

The party had not been long at this place when they were joined by Mr.
Robert M'Lellan, another trader of the Missouri; the same who had been
associated with Mr. Crooks in the unfortunate expedition in which they had
been intercepted by the Sioux Indians, and obliged to make a rapid retreat
down the river.

M'Lellan was a remarkable man. He had been a partisan under General

Wayne, in his Indian wars, where he had distinguished himself by his fiery
spirit and reckless daring, and marvelous stories were told of his exploits.
His appearance answered to his character. His frame was meagre, but
muscular; showing strength, activity, and iron firmness. His eyes were
dark, deep−set, and piercing. He was restless, fearless, but of impetuous
and sometimes ungovernable temper. He had been invited by Mr. Hunt to
enroll himself as a partner, and gladly consented; being pleased with the
thoughts of passing with a powerful force through the country of the Sioux,
CHAPTER XIV. 113

and perhaps having an opportunity of revenging himself upon that lawless

tribe for their past offenses.

Another recruit that joined the camp at Nodowa deserves equal mention.
This was John Day, a hunter from the backwoods of Virginia, who had
been several years on the Missouri in the service of Mr. Crooks, and of
other traders. He was about forty years of age, six feet two inches high,
straight as an Indian; with an elastic step as if he trod on springs, and a
handsome, open, manly countenance. It was his boast that, in his younger
days, nothing could hurt or daunt him; but he had "lived too fast," and
injured his constitution by his excesses. Still he was strong of hand, bold of
heart, a prime woodman, and an almost unerring shot. He had the frank
spirit of a Virginian, and the rough heroism of a pioneer of the west.

The party were now brought to a halt for several months. They were in a
country abounding with deer and wild turkeys, so that there was no stint of
provisions, and every one appeared cheerful and contented. Mr. Hunt
determined to avail himself of this interval to return to St. Louis and obtain
a reinforcement.

He wished to procure an interpreter, acquainted with the language of the

Sioux, as, from all accounts, he apprehended difficulties in passing through
the country of that nation. He felt the necessity, also, of having a greater
number of hunters, not merely to keep up a supply of provisions throughout
their long and arduous expedition, but also as a protection and defense, in
case of Indian hostilities. For such service the Canadian voyageurs were
little to be depended upon, fighting not being a part of their profession. The
proper kind of men were American hunters, experienced in savage life and
savage warfare, and possessed of the true game spirit of the west.

Leaving, therefore, the encampment in charge of the other partners, Mr.

Hunt set off on foot on the first of January (1810), for St. Louis. He was
accompanied by eight men as far as Fort Osage, about one hundred and
fifty miles below Nodowa. Here he procured a couple of horses, and
proceeded on the remainder of his journey with two men, sending the other
six back to the encampment. He arrived at St. Louis on the 20th of January.
CHAPTER XV. 114

CHAPTER XV.

Opposition of the Missouri Fur Company.−Blackfeet Indians.− Pierre

Dorion, a Half−Breed Interpreter.− Old Dorion and His Hybrid Progeny−
Family Quarrels.− Cross Purposes Between Dorion and Lisa. − Renegadoes
From Nodowa.− Perplexities of a Commander.− Messrs. Bradbury and
Nuttall Join the Expedition.− Legal Embarrassments of Pierre Dorion.−
Departure From St. Louis.− Conjugal Discipline of a Half−Breed.− Annual
Swelling of the Rivers.−Daniel Boone, the Patriarch of Kentucky.−John
Colter.−His Adventures Among the Indians.−Rumors of Danger
Ahead.−Fort Osage.−An Indian War−Feast.−Troubles in the Dorion
Family.− Buffaloes and Turkey−Buzzards.

0N this his second visit to St. Louis, Mr. Hunt was again impeded in his
plans by the opposition of the Missouri Fur Company. The affairs of that
company were, at this time, in a very dubious state. During the preceding
year, their principal establishment at the forks of the Missouri had been so
much harassed by the Blackfeet Indians, that its commander, Mr. Henry,
one of the partners, had been compelled to abandon the post and cross the
Rocky Mountains, with the intention of fixing himself upon one of the
upper branches of the Columbia. What had become of him and his party
was unknown. The most intense anxiety was felt concerning them, and
apprehensions that they might have been cut off by the savages. At the time
of Mr. Hunt's arrival at St. Louis, the Missouri Company were fitting out an
expedition to go in quest of Mr. Henry. It was to be conducted by Mr.
Manuel Lisa, the partner already mentioned.

There being thus two expeditions on foot at the same moment, an unusual
demand was occasioned for hunters and voyageurs, who accordingly
profited by the circumstance, and stipulated for high terms. Mr. Hunt found
a keen and subtle competitor in Lisa, and was obliged to secure his recruits
by liberal advances of pay, and by other pecuniary indulgences.
CHAPTER XV. 115

The greatest difficulty was to procure the Sioux interpreter. There was but
one man to be met with at St. Louis who was fitted for the purpose, but to
secure him would require much management. The individual in question
was a half−breed, named Pierre Dorion; and, as he figures hereafter in this
narrative, and is, withal, a striking specimen of the hybrid race on the
frontier, we shall give a few particulars concerning him. Pierre was the son
of Dorion, the French interpreter, who accompanied Messrs. Lewis and
Clark in their famous exploring expedition across the Rocky Mountains.
Old Dorion was one of those French creoles, descendants of the ancient
Canadian stock, who abound on the western frontier, and amalgamate or
cohabit with the savages. He had sojourned among various tribes, and
perhaps left progeny among them all; but his regular, or habitual wife, was
a Sioux squaw. By her he had a hopeful brood of half−breed sons, of whom
Pierre was one. The domestic affairs of old Dorion were conducted on the
true Indian plan. Father and sons would occasionally get drunk together,
and then the cabin was a scene of ruffian brawl and fighting, in the course
of which the old Frenchman was apt to get soundly belabored by his
mongrel offspring. In a furious scuffle of the kind, one of the sons got the
old man upon the ground, and was upon the point of scalping him. "Hold!
my son," cried the old fellow, in imploring accents, "you are too brave, too
honorable to scalp your father!" This last appeal touched the French side of
the half−breed's heart, so he suffered the old man to wear his scalp
unharmed.

Of this hopeful stock was Pierre Dorion, the man whom it was now the
desire of Mr. Hunt to engage as an interpreter. He had been employed in
that capacity by the Missouri Fur Company during the preceding year, and
conducted their traders in safety through the different tribes of the Sioux.
He had proved himself faithful and serviceable while sober; but the love of
liquor, in which he had been nurtured and brought up, would occasionally
break out, and with it the savage side of his character.

It was his love of liquor which had embroiled him with the Missouri
Company. While in their service at Fort Mandan, on the frontier, he had
been seized with a whiskey mania; and, as the beverage was only to be
procured at the company's store, it had been charged in his account at the
CHAPTER XV. 116

rate of ten dollars a quart. This item had ever remained unsettled, and a
matter of furious dispute, the mere mention of which was sufficient to put
him in a passion.

The moment it was discovered by Mr. Lisa that Pierre Dorion was in treaty
with the new and rival association, he endeavored, by threats as well as
promises, to prevent his engaging in their service. His promises might,
perhaps, have prevailed; but his threats, which related to the whiskey debt,
only served to drive Pierre into the opposite ranks. Still he took advantage
of this competition for his services to stand out with Mr. Hunt on the most
advantageous terms, and, after a negotiation of nearly two weeks,
capitulated to serve in the expedition, as hunter and interpreter, at the rate
of three hundred dollars a year, two hundred of which were to be paid in
advance.

When Mr. Hunt had got everything ready for leaving St. Louis, new
difficulties arose. Five of the American hunters from the encampment at
Nodowa, suddenly made their appearance. They alleged that they had been
ill treated by the partners at the encampment, and had come off
clandestinely, in consequence of a dispute. It was useless at the present
moment, and under present circumstances, to attempt any compulsory
measures with these deserters. Two of them Mr. Hunt prevailed upon, by
mild means, to return with him. The rest refused; nay, what was worse, they
spread such reports of the hardships and dangers to be apprehended in the
course of the expedition, that they struck a panic into those hunters who
had recently engaged at St. Louis, and, when the hour of departure arrived,
all but one refused to embark. It was in vain to plead or remonstrate; they
shouldered their rifles and turned their backs upon the expedition, and Mr.
Hunt was fain to put off from shore with the single hunter and a number of
voyageurs whom he had engaged. Even Pierre Dorion, at the last moment,
refused to enter the boat until Mr. Hunt consented to take his squaw and
two children on board also. But the tissue of perplexities, on account of this
worthy individual, did not end here.

Among the various persons who were about to proceed up the Missouri
with Mr. Hunt, were two scientific gentlemen; one Mr. John Bradbury, a
CHAPTER XV. 117

man of mature age, but great enterprise and personal activity, who had been
sent out by Linnaean Society of Liverpool to make a collection of
American plants; the other, a Mr. Nuttall, likewise an Englishman, younger
in years, who has since made himself known as the author of Travels in
Arkansas, and a work on the Genera of American Plants. Mr. Hunt had
offered them the protection and facilities of his party, in their scientific
research up the Missouri River. As they were not ready to depart at the
moment of embarkation, they put their trunks on board of the boat, but
remained at St. Louis until the next day, for the arrival of the post,
intending to join the expedition at St. Charles, a short distance above the
mouth of the Missouri.

The same evening, however, they learned that a writ had been issued
against Pierre Dorion for his whiskey debt, by Mr. Lisa, as agent of the
Missouri Company, and that it was the intention to entrap the mongrel
linguist on his arrival at St. Charles.

Upon hearing this, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall set off a little after
midnight, by land, got ahead of the boat as it was ascending the Missouri,
before its arrival at St. Charles, and gave Pierre Dorion warning of the legal
toil prepared to ensnare him.

The knowing Pierre immediately landed and took to the woods, followed
by his squaw laden with their papooses, and a large bundle containing their
most precious effects, promising to rejoin the party some distance above St.
Charles. There seemed little dependence to be placed upon the promises of
a loose adventurer of the kind, who was at the very time playing an evasive
game with his former employers; who had already received two−thirds of
his year's pay, and his rifle on his shoulder, his family and worldly fortunes
at his heels, and the wild woods before him. There was no alternative,
however, and it was hoped his pique against his old employers would
render him faithful to his new ones.

The party reached St. Charles in the afternoon, but the harpies of the law
looked in vain for their expected prey. The boats resumed their course on
the following morning, and had not proceeded far when Pierre Dorion
CHAPTER XV. 118

made his appearance on the shore. He was gladly taken on board, but he
came without his squaw. They had quarreled in the night; Pierre had
administered the Indian discipline of the cudgel, whereupon she had taken
to the woods, with their children and all their worldly goods. Pierre
evidently was deeply grieved and disconcerted at the loss of his wife and
his knapsack, whereupon Mr. Hunt despatched one of the Canadian
voyageurs in search of the fugitive; and the whole party, after proceeding a
few miles further, encamped on an island to wait his return. The Canadian
rejoined the party, but without the squaw; and Pierre Dorion passed a
solitary and anxious night, bitterly regretting his indiscretion in having
exercised his conjugal authority so near home. Before daybreak, however, a
well−known voice reached his ears from the opposite shore. It was his
repentant spouse, who had been wandering the woods all night in quest of
the party, and had at length descried it by its fires. A boat was despatched
for her, the interesting family was once more united, and Mr. Hunt now
flattered himself that his perplexities with Pierre Dorion were at an end.

Bad weather, very heavy rains, and an unusually early rise in the Missouri,
rendered the ascent of the river toilsome, slow, and dangerous. The rise of
the Missouri does not generally take place until the month of May or June:
the present swelling of the river must have been caused by a freshet in
some of its more southern branches. It could not have been the great annual
flood, as the higher branches must still have been ice−bound.

And here we cannot but pause, to notice the admirable arrangement of

nature, by which the annual swellings of the various great rivers which
empty themselves into the Mississippi, have been made to precede each
other at considerable intervals. Thus, the flood of the Red River precedes
that of the Arkansas by a month. The Arkansas, also, rising in a much more
southern latitude than the Missouri, takes the lead of it in its annual excess,
and its superabundant waters are disgorged and disposed of long before the
breaking up of the icy barriers of the north; otherwise, did all these mighty
streams rise simultaneously, and discharge their vernal floods into the
Mississippi, an inundation would be the consequence, that would submerge
and devastate all the lower country.
CHAPTER XV. 119

On the afternoon of the third day, January, 17th, the boats touched at
Charette, one of the old villages founded by the original French colonists.
Here they met with Daniel Boone, the renowned patriarch of Kentucky,
who had kept in the advance of civilization, and on the borders of the
wilderness, still leading a hunter's life, though now in his eighty−fifth year.
He had but recently returned from a hunting and trapping expedition, and
had brought nearly sixty beaver skins as trophies of his skill. The old man
was still erect in form, strong in limb, and unflinching in spirit, and as he
stood on the river bank, watching the departure of an expedition destined to
traverse the wilderness to the very shores of the Pacific, very probably felt a
throb of his old pioneer spirit, impelling him to shoulder his rifle and join
the adventurous band. Boone flourished several years after this meeting, in
a vigorous old age, the Nestor of hunters and backwoodsmen; and died, full
of sylvan honor and renown, in 1818, in his ninety−second year.

The next morning early, as the party were yet encamped at the mouth of a
small stream, they were visited by another of these heroes of the
wilderness, one John Colter, who had accompanied Lewis and Clarke in
their memorable expedition. He had recently made one of those vast
internal voyages so characteristic of this fearless class of men, and of the
immense regions over which they hold their lonely wanderings; having
come from the head waters of the Missouri to St. Louis in a small canoe.
This distance of three thousand miles he had accomplished in thirty days.
Colter kept with the party all the morning. He had many particulars to give
them concerning the Blackfeet Indians, a restless and predatory tribe, who
had conceived an implacable hostility to the white men, in consequence of
one of their warriors having been killed by Captain Lewis, while attempting
to steal horses. Through the country infested by these savages the
expedition would have to proceed, and Colter was urgent in reiterating the
precautions that ought to be observed respecting them. He had himself
experienced their vindictive cruelty, and his story deserves particular
citation, as showing the hairbreadth adventures to which these solitary
rovers of the wilderness are exposed.

Colter, with the hardihood of a regular trapper, had cast himself loose from
the party of Lewis and Clarke in the very heart of the wilderness, and had
CHAPTER XV. 120

remained to trap beaver alone on the head waters of the Missouri. Here he
fell in with another lonely trapper, like himself, named Potts, and they
agreed to keep together. They were in the very region of the terrible
Blackfeet, at that time thirsting to revenge the death of their companion,
and knew that they had to expect no mercy at their hands. They were
obliged to keep concealed all day in the woody margins of the rivers,
setting their traps after nightfall and taking them up before daybreak. It was
running a fearful risk for the sake of a few beaver skins; but such is the life
of the trapper.

They were on a branch of the Missouri called Jefferson Fork, and had set
their traps at night, about six miles up a small river that emptied into the
fork. Early in the morning they ascended the river in a canoe, to examine
the traps. The banks on each side were high and perpendicular, and cast a
shade over the stream. As they were softly paddling along, they heard the
trampling of many feet upon the banks. Colter immediately gave the alarm
of "Indians!" and was for instant retreat. Potts scoffed at him for being
frightened by the trampling of a herd of buffaloes. Colter checked his
uneasiness and paddled forward. They had not gone much further when
frightful whoops and yells burst forth from each side of the river, and
several hundred Indians appeared on either bank. Signs were made to the
unfortunate trappers to come on shore. They were obliged to comply.
Before they could get out of their canoe, a savage seized the rifle belonging
to Potts. Colter sprang on shore, wrestled the weapon from the hands of the
Indian, and restored it to his companion, who was still in the canoe, and
immediately pushed into the stream. There was the sharp twang of a bow,
and Potts cried out that he was wounded. Colter urged him to come on
shore and submit, as his only chance for life; but the other knew there was
no prospect of mercy, and determined to die game. Leveling his rifle, he
shot one of the savages dead on the spot. The next moment he fell himself,
pierced with innumerable arrows.

The vengeance of the savages now turned upon Colter. He was stripped
naked, and, having some knowledge of the Blackfoot language, overheard a
consultation as to the mode of despatching him, so as to derive the greatest
amusement from his death. Some were for setting him up as a mark, and
CHAPTER XV. 121

having a trial of skill at his expense. The chief, however, was for nobler
sport. He seized Colter by the shoulder, and demanded if he could run fast.
The unfortunate trapper was too well acquainted with Indian customs not to
comprehend the drift of the question. He knew he was to run for his life, to
furnish a kind of human hunt to his persecutors. Though in reality he was
noted among his brother hunters for swiftness of foot, he assured the chief
that he was a very bad runner. His stratagem gained him some vantage
ground. He was led by the chief into the prairie, about four hundred yards
from the main body of savages, and then turned loose to save himself if he
could. A tremendous yell let him know that the whole pack of bloodhounds
were off in full cry. Colter flew rather than ran; he was astonished at his
own speed; but he had six miles of prairie to traverse before he should
reach the Jefferson Fork of the Missouri; how could he hope to hold out
such a distance with the fearful odds of several hundred to one against him!
The plain, too, abounded with the prickly pear, which wounded his naked
feet. Still he fled on, dreading each moment to hear the twang of a bow, and
to feel an arrow quivering at his heart. He did not even dare to look round,
lest he should lose an inch of that distance on which his life depended. He
had run nearly half way across the plain when the sound of pursuit grew
somewhat fainter, and he ventured to turn his head. The main body of his
pursuers were a considerable distance behind; several of the fastest runners
were scattered in the advance; while a swift−footed warrior, armed with a
spear, was not more than a hundred yards behind him.

Inspired with new hope, Colter redoubled his exertions, but strained
himself to such a degree, that the blood gushed from his mouth and nostrils,
and streamed down his breast. He arrived within a mile of the river. The
sound of footsteps gathered upon him. A glance behind showed his pursuer
within twenty yards, and preparing to launch his spear. Stopping short he
turned round and spread out his arms. The savage, confounded by this
sudden action, attempted to stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the very act.
His spear stuck in the ground, and the shaft broke in his hand. Colter
plucked up the pointed part, pinned the savage to the earth, and continued
his flight. The Indians, as they arrived at their slaughtered companion,
stopped to howl over him. Colter made the most of this precious delay,
gained the skirt of cotton−wood bordering the river, dashed through it, and
CHAPTER XV. 122

plunged into the stream. He swam to a neighboring island, against the

upper end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as to form a
natural raft; under this he dived, and swam below water until he succeeded
in getting a breathing place between the floating trunks of trees, whose
branches and bushes formed a covert several feet above the level of the
water. He had scarcely drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his
pursuers on the river bank, whooping and yelling like so many fiends. They
plunged in the river, and swam to the raft. The heart of Colter almost died
within him as he saw them, through the chinks of his concealment, passing
and repassing, and seeking for him in all directions. They at length gave up
the search, and he began to rejoice in his escape, when the idea presented
itself that they might set the raft on fire. Here was a new source of horrible
apprehension, in which he remained until nightfall. Fortunately the idea did
not suggest itself to the Indians. As soon as it was dark, finding by the
silence around that his pursuers had departed, Colter dived again and came
up beyond the raft. He then swam silently down the river for a considerable
distance, when he landed, and kept on all night, to get as far as possible
from this dangerous neighborhood.

By daybreak he had gained sufficient distance to relieve him from the

terrors of his savage foes; but now new sources of inquietude presented
themselves. He was naked and alone, in the midst of an unbounded
wilderness; his only chance was to reach a trading post of the Missouri
Company, situated on a branch of the Yellowstone River. Even should he
elude his pursuers, days must elapse before he could reach this post, during
which he must traverse immense prairies destitute of shade, his naked body
exposed to the burning heat of the sun by day, and the dews and chills of
the night season, and his feet lacerated by the thorns of the prickly pear.
Though he might see game in abundance around him, he had no means of
killing any for his sustenance, and must depend for food upon the roots of
the earth. In defiance of these difficulties he pushed resolutely forward,
guiding himself in his trackless course by those signs and indications
known only to Indians and backwoodsmen; and after braving dangers and
hardships enough to break down any spirit but that of a western pioneer,
arrived safe at the solitary post in question. * (* Bradbury, Travels in
America, p. 17.)
CHAPTER XV. 123

Such is a sample of the rugged experience which Colter had to relate of

savage life; yet, with all these perils and terrors fresh in his recollection, he
could not see the present band on their way to those regions of danger and
adventure, without feeling a vehement impulse to join them. A western
trapper is like a sailor; past hazards only stimulate him to further risks. The
vast prairie is to the one what the ocean is to the other, a boundless field of
enterprise and exploit. However he may have suffered in his last cruise, he
is always ready to join a new expedition; and the more adventurous its
nature, the more attractive is it to his vagrant spirit.

Nothing seems to have kept Colter from continuing with the party to the
shores of the Pacific but the circumstances of his having recently married.
All the morning he kept with them, balancing in his mind the charms of his
bride against those of the Rocky Mountains; the former, however,
prevailed, and after a march of several miles, he took a reluctant leave of
the travellers, and turned his face homeward.

Continuing their progress up the Missouri, the party encamped on the

evening of the 21st of March, in the neighborhood of a little frontier village
of French creoles. Here Pierre Dorion met with some of his old comrades,
with whom he had a long gossip, and returned to the camp with rumors of
bloody feuds between the Osages and the loways, or Ayaways,
Potowatomies, Sioux, and Sawkees. Blood had already been shed, and
scalps been taken. A war party, three hundred strong, were prowling in the
neighborhood; others might be met with higher up the river; it behooved
the travellers, therefore, to be upon their guard against robbery or surprise,
for an Indian war−party on the march is prone to acts of outrage.

In consequence of this report, which was subsequently confirmed by further

intelligence, a guard was kept up at night round the encampment, and they
all slept on their arms. As they were sixteen in number, and well supplied
with weapons and ammunition, they trusted to be able to give any
marauding party a warm reception. Nothing occurred, however, to molest
them on their voyage, and on the 8th of April they came in sight of Fort
Osage. On their approach the flag was hoisted on the fort, and they saluted
it by a discharge of fire−arms. Within a short distance of the fort was an
CHAPTER XV. 124

Osage village, the inhabitants of which, men, women, and children,

thronged down to the water side to witness their landing. One of the first
persons they met on the river bank was Mr. Crooks, who had come down in
a boat, with nine men, from their winter encampment at Nodowa to meet
them.

They remained at Fort Osage a part of three days, during which they were
hospitably entertained at the garrison by Lieutenant Brownson, who held a
temporary command. They were regaled also with a war−feast at the
village; the Osage warriors having returned from a successful foray against
the loways, in which they had taken seven scalps. They were paraded on
poles about the village, followed by the warriors decked out in all their
savage ornaments, and hideously painted as if for battle.

By the Osage warriors, Mr. Hunt and his companions were again warned to
be on their guard in ascending the river, as the Sioux tribe meant to lay in
wait and attack them.

On the 10th of April they again embarked their party, being now
augmented to twenty−six, by the addition of Mr. Crooks and his boat's
crew. They had not proceeded far, however, when there was a great outcry
from one of the boats; it was occasioned by a little domestic discipline in
the Dorion family. The squaw of the worthy interpreter, it appeared, had
been so delighted with the scalp−dance, and other festivities of the Osage
village, that she had taken a strong inclination to remain there. This had
been as strongly opposed by her liege lord, who had compelled her to
embark. The good dame had remained sulky ever since, whereupon Pierre,
seeing no other mode of exorcising the evil spirit out of her, and being,
perhaps, a little inspired by whiskey, had resorted to the Indian remedy of
the cudgel, and before his neighbors could interfere, had belabored her so
soundly, that there is no record of her having shown any refractory
symptoms throughout the remainder of the expedition.

For a week they continued their voyage, exposed to almost incessant rains.
The bodies of drowned buffaloes floated past them in vast numbers; many
had drifted upon the shore, or against the upper ends of the rafts and
CHAPTER XVI. 125

islands. These had attracted great flights of turkey−buzzards; some were

banqueting on the carcasses, others were soaring far aloft in the sky, and
others were perched on the trees, with their backs to the sun, and their
wings stretched out to dry, like so many vessels in harbor, spreading their
sails after a shower.

The turkey−buzzard (vultur aura, or golden vulture), when on the wing, is

one of the most specious and imposing of birds. Its flight in the upper
regions of the air is really sublime, extending its immense wings, and
wheeling slowly and majestically to and fro, seemingly without exerting a
muscle or fluttering a feather, but moving by mere volition, and sailing on
the bosom of the air, as a ship upon the ocean. Usurping the empyreal
realm of the eagle, he assumes for a time the port and dignity of that
majestic bird, and often is mistaken for him by ignorant crawlers upon the
earth. It is only when he descends from the clouds to pounce upon carrion
that he betrays his low propensities, and reveals his caitiff character. Near
at hand he is a disgusting bird, ragged in plumage, base in aspect, and of
loathsome odor.

On the 17th of April Mr. Hunt arrived with his party at the station near the
Nodowa River, where the main body had been quartered during the winter.

CHAPTER XVI.

Return of Spring.− Appearance of Snakes.− Great Flights of Wild

Pigeons.− Renewal of the Voyage.− Night Encampments.− Platte River. −
Ceremonials on Passing It.− Signs of Indian War Parties.− Magnificent
Prospect at Papillion Creek.− Desertion of Two Hunters.An Irruption Into
the Camp of Indian Desperadoes.− Village of the Omahas.−A necdotes of
the Tribe.− Feudal Wars of the Indians.−Story of Blackbird, the Famous
Omaha Chief.

THE weather continued rainy and ungenial for some days after Mr. Hunt's
return to Nodowa; yet spring was rapidly advancing and vegetation was
putting forth with all its early freshness and beauty. The snakes began to
CHAPTER XVI. 126

recover from their torpor and crawl forth into day; and the neighborhood of
the wintering house seems to have been much infested with them. Mr.
Bradbury, in the course of his botanical researches, found a surprising
number in a half torpid state, under flat stones upon the banks which
overhung the cantonment, and narrowly escaped being struck by a
rattlesnake, which darted at him from a cleft in the rock, but fortunately
gave him warning by his rattle.

The pigeons, too, were filling the woods in vast migratory flocks. It is
almost incredible to describe the prodigious flights of these birds in the
western wildernesses. They appear absolutely in clouds, and move with
astonishing velocity, their wings making a whistling sound as they fly. The
rapid evolutions of these flocks wheeling and shifting suddenly as if with
one mind and one impulse; the flashing changes of color they present, as
their backs' their breasts, or the under part of their wings are turned to the
spectator, are singularly pleasing. When they alight, if on the ground, they
cover whole acres at a time; if upon trees, the branches often break beneath
their weight. If suddenly startled while feeding in the midst of a forest, the
noise they make in getting on the wing is like the roar of a cataract or the
sound of distant thunder.

A flight of this kind, like an Egyptian flight of locusts, devours everything

that serves for its food as it passes along. So great were the numbers in the
vicinity of the camp that Mr. Bradbury, in the course of a morning's
excursion, shot nearly three hundred with a fowling−piece. He gives a
curious, though apparently a faithful, account of the kind of discipline
observed in these immense flocks, so that each may have a chance of
picking up food. As the front ranks must meet with the greatest abundance,
and the rear ranks must have scanty pickings, the instant a rank finds itself
the hindmost, it rises in the air, flies over the whole flock and takes its place
in the advance. The next rank follows in its course, and thus the last is
continually becoming first and all by turns have a front place at the
banquet.

The rains having at length subsided, Mr. Hunt broke up the encampment
and resumed his course up the Missouri.
CHAPTER XVI. 127

The party now consisted of nearly sixty persons, of whom five were
partners, one, John Reed, was a clerk; forty were Canadian "voyageurs," or
"engages," and there were several hunters. They embarked in four boats,
one of which was of a large size, mounting a swivel, and two howitzers. All
were furnished with masts and sails, to be used when the wind was
sufficiently favorable and strong to overpower the current of the river. Such
was the case for the first four or five days, when they were wafted steadily
up the stream by a strong southeaster.

Their encampments at night were often pleasant and picturesque: on some

beautiful bank, beneath spreading trees, which afforded them shelter and
fuel. The tents were pitched, the fires made, and the meals prepared by the
voyageurs, and many a story was told, and joke passed, and song sung
round the evening fire. All, however, were asleep at an early hour. Some
under the tents, others wrapped in blankets before the fire, or beneath the
trees; and some few in the boats and canoes.

On the 28th, they breakfasted on one of the islands which lie at the mouth
of the Nebraska or Platte River − the largest tributary of the Missouri, and
about six hundred miles above its confluence with the Mississippi. This
broad but shallow stream flows for an immense distance through a wide
and verdant valley scooped out of boundless prairies. It draws its main
supplies, by several forks or branches, from the Rocky Mountains. The
mouth of this river is established as the dividing point between the upper
and lower Missouri; and the earlier voyagers, in their toilsome ascent,
before the introduction of steamboats, considered one−half of their labors
accomplished when they reached this place. The passing of the mouth of
the Nebraska, therefore, was equivalent among boatmen to the crossing of
the line among sailors, and was celebrated with like ceremonials of a rough
and waggish nature, practiced upon the uninitiated; among which was the
old nautical joke of shaving. The river deities, however, like those of the
sea, were to be propitiated by a bribe, and the infliction of these rude
honors to be parried by a treat to the adepts.

At the mouth of the Nebraska new signs were met with of war parties
which had recently been in the vicinity. There was the frame of a skin
CHAPTER XVI. 128

canoe, in which the warriors had traversed the river. At night, also, the lurid
reflection of immense fires hung in the sky, showing the conflagration of
great tracts of the prairies. Such fires not being made by hunters so late in
the season, it was supposed they were caused by some wandering war
parties. These often take the precaution to set the prairies on fire behind
them to conceal their traces from their enemies. This is chiefly done when
the party has been unsuccessful, and is on the retreat and apprehensive of
pursuit. At such time it is not safe even for friends to fall in with them, as
they are apt to be in savage humor, and disposed to vent their spleen in
capricious outrage. These signs, therefore, of a band of marauders on the
prowl, called for some degree of vigilance on the part of the travellers.

After passing the Nebraska, the party halted for part of two days on the
bank of the river, a little above Papillion Creek, to supply themselves with a
stock of oars and poles from the tough wood of the ash, which is not met
with higher up the Missouri. While the voyagers were thus occupied, the
naturalists rambled over the adjacent country to collect plants. From the
summit of a range of bluffs on the opposite side of the river, about two
hundred and fifty feet high, they had one of those vast and magnificent
prospects which sometimes unfold themselves in those boundless regions.
Below them was the Valley of the Missouri, about seven miles in breadth,
clad in the fresh verdure of spring; enameled with flowers and interspersed
with clumps and groves of noble trees, between which the mighty river
poured its turbulent and turbid stream. The interior of the country presented
a singular scene; the immense waste being broken up by innumerable green
hills, not above eight feet in height, but extremely steep, and actually
pointed at their summits. A long line of bluffs extended for upwards of
thirty miles parallel to the Missouri, with a shallow lake stretching along
their base, which had evidently once formed a bed of the river. The surface
of this lake was covered with aquatic plants, on the broad leaves of which
numbers of water−snakes, drawn forth by the genial warmth of spring, were
basking in the sunshine.

On the 2d day of May, at the usual hour of embarking, the camp was
thrown into some confusion by two of the hunters, named Harrington,
expressing their intention to abandon the expedition and return home. One
CHAPTER XVI. 129

of these had joined the party in the preceding autumn, having been hunting
for two years on the Missouri; the other had engaged at St. Louis, in the
following March, and had come up from thence with Mr. Hunt. He now
declared that he had enlisted merely for the purpose of following his
brother, and persuading him to return; having been enjoined to do so by his
mother, whose anxiety had been awakened by the idea of his going on such
a wild and distant expedition.

The loss of two stark hunters and prime riflemen was a serious affair to the
party, for they were approaching the region where they might expect
hostilities from the Sioux; indeed, throughout the whole of their perilous
journey, the services of such men would be all important, for little reliance
was to be placed upon the valor of the Canadians in case of attack. Mr.
Hunt endeavored by arguments, expostulations, and entreaties, to shake the
determination of the two brothers. He represented to them that they were
between six and seven hundred miles above the mouth of the Missouri; that
they would have four hundred miles to go before they could reach the
habitation of a white man, throughout which they would be exposed to all
kinds of risks; since, he declared, if they persisted in abandoning him and
breaking their faith, he would not furnish them with a single round of
ammunition. All was in vain; they obstinately persisted in their resolution;
whereupon, Mr. Hunt, partly incited by indignation, partly by the policy of
deterring others from desertion, put his threat into execution, and left them
to find their way back to the settlements without, as he supposed, a single
bullet or charge of powder.

The boats now continued their slow and toilsome course for several days,
against the current of the river. The late signs of roaming war parties caused
a vigilant watch to be kept up at night when the crews encamped on shore;
nor was this vigilance superfluous; for on the night of the seventh instant,
there was a wild and fearful yell, and eleven Sioux warriors, stark naked,
with tomahawks in their hands, rushed into the camp. They were instantly
surrounded and seized, whereupon their leader called out to his followers to
desist from any violence, and pretended to be perfectly pacific in his
intentions. It proved, however, that they were a part of the war party, the
skeleton of whose canoe had been seen at the mouth of the river Platte, and
CHAPTER XVI. 130

the reflection of whose fires had been descried in the air. They had been
disappointed or defeated in the foray, and in their rage and mortification
these eleven warriors had "devoted their clothes to the medicine." This is a
desperate act of Indian braves when foiled in war, and in dread of scoffs
and sneers. In such case they sometimes threw off their clothes and
ornaments, devote themselves to the Great Spirit, and attempt some
reckless exploit with which to cover their disgrace. Woe to any defenseless
party of white men that may then fall in their way!

Such was the explanation given by Pierre Dorion, the half−breed

interpreter, of this wild intrusion into the camp; and the party were so
exasperated when appraised of the sanguinary intentions of the prisoners,
that they were for shooting them on the spot. Mr. Hunt, however, exerted
his usual moderation and humanity, and ordered that they should be
conveyed across the river in one of the boats, threatening them however,
with certain death if again caught in any hostile act.

On the 10th of May the party arrived at the Omaha (pronounced

Omawhaw) village, about eight hundred and thirty miles above the mouth
of the Missouri, and encamped in its neighborhood. The village was
situated under a hill on the bank of the river, and consisted of about eighty
lodges. These were of a circular and conical form, and about sixteen feet in
diameter; being mere tents of dressed buffalo skins, sewed together and
stretched on long poles, inclined towards each other so as to cross at about
half their height. Thus the naked tops of the poles diverge in such a manner
that, if they were covered with skins like the lower ends, the tent would be
shaped like an hour−glass, and present the appearance of one cone inverted
on the apex of another.

The forms of Indian lodges are worthy of attention, each tribe having a
different mode of shaping and arranging them, so that it is easy to tell, on
seeing a lodge or an encampment at a distance, to what tribe the inhabitants
belong. The exterior of the Omaha lodges have often a gay and fanciful
appearance, being painted with undulating bands of red or yellow, or
decorated with rude figures of horses, deer, and buffaloes, and with human
faces, painted like full moons, four and five feet broad.
CHAPTER XVI. 131

The Omahas were once one of the numerous and powerful tribes of the
prairies, vying in warlike might and prowess with the Sioux, the Pawnees,
the Sauks, the Konsas, and the Iatans. Their wars with the Sioux, however,
had thinned their ranks, and the small− pox in 1802 had swept off two
thirds of their number. At the time of Mr. Hunt's visit they still boasted
about two hundred warriors and hunters, but they are now fast melting
away, and before long, will be numbered among those extinguished nations
of the west that exist but in tradition.

In his correspondence with Mr. Astor, from this point of his journey, Mr.
Hunt gives a sad account of the Indian tribes bordering on the river. They
were in continual war with each other, and their wars were of the most
harassing kind; consisting, not merely of main conflicts and expeditions of
moment, involving the sackings, burnings, and massacres of towns and
villages, but of individual acts of treachery, murder, and cold−blooded
cruelty; or of vaunting and foolhardy exploits of single warriors, either to
avenge some personal wrong, or gain the vainglorious trophy of a scalp.
The lonely hunter, the wandering wayfarer, the poor squaw cutting wood or
gathering corn, was liable to be surprised and slaughtered. In this way
tribes were either swept away at once, or gradually thinned out, and savage
life was surrounded with constant horrors and alarms. That the race of red
men should diminish from year to year, and so few should survive of the
numerous nations which evidently once peopled the vast regions of the
west, is nothing surprising; it is rather matter of surprise that so many
should survive; for the existence of a savage in these parts seems little
better than a prolonged and all−besetting death. It is, in fact, a caricature of
the boasted romance of feudal times; chivalry in its native and uncultured
state, and knight−errantry run wild.

In their most prosperous days, the Omahas looked upon themselves as the
most powerful and perfect of human beings, and considered all created
things as made for their peculiar use and benefit. It is this tribe of whose
chief, the famous Wash−ing−guhsah−ba, or Blackbird, such savage and
romantic stories are told. He had died about ten years previous to the arrival
of Mr. Hunt's party, but his name was still mentioned with awe by his
people. He was one of the first among the Indian chiefs on the Missouri to
CHAPTER XVI. 132

deal with the white traders, and showed great sagacity in levying his royal
dues. When a trader arrived in his village, he caused all his goods to be
brought into his lodge and opened. From these he selected whatever suited
his sovereign pleasure; blankets, tobacco, whiskey, powder, ball, beads, and
red paint; and laid the articles on one side, without deigning to give any
compensation. Then calling to him his herald or crier, he would order him
to mount on top of the lodge and summon all the tribe to bring in their
peltries, and trade with the white man. The lodge would soon be crowded
with Indians bringing bear, beaver, otter, and other skins. No one was
allowed to dispute the prices fixed by the white trader upon his articles;
who took care to indemnify himself five times over for the goods set apart
by the chief. In this way the Blackbird enriched himself, and enriched the
white men, and became exceedingly popular among the traders of the
Missouri. His people, however, were not equally satisfied by a regulation of
trade which worked so manifestly against them, and began to show signs of
discontent. Upon this a crafty and unprincipled trader revealed a secret to
the Blackbird, by which he might acquire unbounded sway over his
ignorant and superstitious subjects. He instructed him in the poisonous
qualities of arsenic, and furnished him with an ample supply of that baneful
drug. From this time the Blackbird seemed endowed with supernatural
powers, to possess the gift of prophecy, and to hold the disposal of life and
death within his hands. Woe to any one who questioned his authority or
dared to dispute his commands! The Blackbird prophesied his death within
a certain time, and he had the secret means of verifying his prophecy.
Within the fated period the offender was smitten with strange and sudden
disease, and perished from the face of the earth. Every one stood aghast at
these multiplied examples of his superhuman might, and dreaded to
displease so omnipotent and vindictive a being; and the Blackbird enjoyed
a wide and undisputed sway.

It was not, however, by terror alone that he ruled his people; he was a
warrior of the first order, and his exploits in arms were the theme of young
and old. His career had begun by hardships, having been taken prisoner by
the Sioux, in early youth. Under his command, the Omahas obtained great
character for military prowess, nor did he permit an insult or an injury to
one of his tribe to pass unrevenged. The Pawnee republicans had inflicted a
CHAPTER XVI. 133

gross indignity on a favorite and distinguished Omaha brave. The Blackbird

assembled his warriors, led them against the Pawnee town, attacked it with
irresistible fury, slaughtered a great number of its inhabitants, and burnt it
to the ground. He waged fierce and bloody war against the Ottoes for many
years, until peace was effected between them by the mediation of the
whites. Fearless in battle, and fond of signalizing himself, he dazzled his
followers by daring acts. In attacking a Kanza village, he rode singly round
it, loading and discharging his rifle at the inhabitants as he galloped past
them. He kept up in war the same idea of mysterious and supernatural
power. At one time, when pursuing a war party by their tracks across the
prairies, he repeatedly discharged his rifle into the prints made by their feet
and by the hoofs of their horses, assuring his followers that he would
thereby cripple the fugitives, so that they would easily be overtaken. He in
fact did overtake them, and destroyed them almost to a man; and his victory
was considered miraculous, both by friends and foe. By these and similar
exploits, he made himself the pride and boast of his people, and became
popular among them, notwithstanding his death−denouncing fiat.

With all his savage and terrific qualities, he was sensible of the power of
female beauty, and capable of love. A war party of the Poncas had made a
foray into the lands of the Omahas, and carried off a number of women and
horses. The Blackbird was roused to fury, and took the field with all his
braves, swearing to "eat up the Ponca nation"− the Indian threat of
exterminating war. The Poncas, sorely pressed, took refuge behind a rude
bulwark of earth; but the Blackbird kept up so galling a fire, that he seemed
likely to execute his menace. In their extremity they sent forth a herald,
bearing the calumet or pipe of peace, but he was shot down by order of the
Blackbird. Another herald was sent forth in similar guise, but he shared a
like fate. The Ponca chief then, as a last hope, arrayed his beautiful
daughter in her finest ornaments, and sent her forth with a calumet, to sue
for peace. The charms of the Indian maid touched the stern heart of the
Blackbird; he accepted the pipe at her hand, smoked it, and from that time a
peace took place between the Poncas and the Omahas.

This beautiful damsel, in all probability, was the favorite wife whose fate
makes so tragic an incident in the story of the Blackbird. Her youth and
CHAPTER XVI. 134

beauty had gained an absolute sway over his rugged heart, so that he
distinguished her above all of his other wives. The habitual gratification of
his vindictive impulses, however, had taken away from him all mastery
over his passions, and rendered him liable to the most furious transports of
rage. In one of these his beautiful wife had the misfortune to offend him,
when suddenly drawing his knife, he laid her dead at his feet with a single
blow.

In an instant his frenzy was at an end. He gazed for a time in mute

bewilderment upon his victim; then drawing his buffalo robe over his head,
he sat down beside the corpse, and remained brooding over his crime and
his loss. Three days elapsed, yet the chief continued silent and motionless;
tasting no food, and apparently sleepless. It was apprehended that he
intended to starve himself to death; his people approached him in trembling
awe, and entreated him once more to uncover his face and be comforted;
but he remained unmoved. At length one of his warriors brought in a small
child, and laying it on the ground, placed the foot of the Blackbird upon its
neck. The heart of the gloomy savage was touched by this appeal; he threw
aside his robe; made an harangue upon what he had done; and from that
time forward seemed to have thrown the load of grief and remorse from his
mind.

He still retained his fatal and mysterious secret, and with it his terrific
power; but, though able to deal death to his enemies, he could not avert it
from himself or his friends. In 1802 the small−pox, that dreadful pestilence,
which swept over the land like a fire over the prairie, made its appearance
in the village of the Omahas. The poor savages saw with dismay the
ravages of a malady, loathsome and agonizing in its details, and which set
the skill and experience of their conjurors and medicine men at defiance. In
a little while, two thirds of the population were swept from the face of the
earth, and the doom of the rest seemed sealed. The stoicism of the warriors
was at an end; they became wild and desperate; some set fire to the village
as a last means of checking the pestilence; others, in a frenzy of despair, put
their wives and children to death, that they might be spared the agonies of
an inevitable disease, and that they might all go to some better country.
CHAPTER XVI. 135

When the general horror and dismay was at its height, the Blackbird
himself was struck down with the malady. The poor savages, when they
saw their chief in danger, forgot their own miseries, and surrounded his
dying bed. His dominant spirit, and his love for the white men, were
evinced in his latest breath, with which he designated his place of sepulture.
It was to be on a hill or promontory, upwards of four hundred feet in height,
overlooking a great extent of the Missouri, from whence he had been
accustomed to watch for the barks of the white men. The Missouri washes
the base of the promontory, and after winding and doubling in many links
and mazes in the plain below, returns to within nine hundred yards of its
starting−place; so that for thirty miles navigating with sail and oar the
voyager finds himself continually near to this singular promontory as if
spell− bound.

It was the dying command of the Blackbird that his tomb should be on the
summit of this hill, in which he should be interred, seated on his favorite
horse, that he might overlook his ancient domain, and behold the barks of
the white men as they came up the river to trade with his people.

His dying orders were faithfully obeyed. His corpse was placed astride of
his war−steed and a mound raised over them on the summit of the hill. On
top of the mound was erected a staff, from which fluttered the banner of the
chieftain, and the scalps that he had taken in battle. When the expedition
under Mr. Hunt visited that part of the country, the staff still remained, with
the fragments of the banner; and the superstitious rite of placing food from
time to time on the mound, for the use of the deceased, was still observed
by the Omahas. That rite has since fallen into disuse, for the tribe itself is
almost extinct. Yet the hill of the Blackbird continues an object of
veneration to the wandering savage, and a landmark to the voyager of the
Missouri; and as the civilized traveller comes within sight of its
spell−bound crest, the mound is pointed out to him from afar, which still
incloses the grim skeletons of the Indian warrior and his horse.
CHAPTER XVII. 136

CHAPTER XVII.

Rumors of Danger From the Sioux Tetons.− Ruthless Character of Those

Savages.− Pirates of the Missouri.− Their Affair with Crooks and
M'Lellan.− A Trading Expedition Broken Up.− M'Lellan's Vow of
Vengeance.− Uneasiness in the Camp.− Desertions.− Departure From the
Omaha Village.− Meeting With Jones and Carson, two Adventurous
Trappers.− Scientific Pursuits of Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall. − Zeal of a
Botanist.− Adventure of Mr. Bradbury with a Ponca Indian. −Expedient of
the Pocket Compass and Microscope.− A Messenger From Lisa.− Motives
for Pressing Forward.

WHILE Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the village of the
Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton Alma tribe arrived, bringing
unpleasant intelligence. They reported that certain bands of the Sioux
Tetons, who inhabited a region many leagues further up the Missouri, were
near at hand, awaiting the approach of the party, with the avowed intention
of opposing their progress.

The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the Missouri, who
considered the well freighted bark of the American trader fair game. They
had their own traffic with the British merchants of the Northwest, who
brought them regular supplies of merchandise by way of the river St. Peter.
Being thus independent of the Missouri traders for their supplies, they kept
no terms with them, but plundered them whenever they had an opportunity.
It has been insinuated that they were prompted to these outrages by the
British merchants, who wished to keep off all rivals in the Indian trade; but
others allege another motive, and one savoring of a deeper policy. The
Sioux, by their intercourse with the British traders, had acquired the use of
firearms, which had given them vast superiority over other tribes higher up
the Missouri. They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for the
upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly advanced
prices, with goods derived from the white men. The Sioux, therefore, saw
with jealousy the American traders pushing their way up the Missouri;
foreseeing that the upper tribes would thus be relieved from all dependence
on them for supplies; nay, what was worse, would be furnished with
CHAPTER XVII. 137

fire−arms, and elevated into formidable rivals.

We have already alluded to a case in which Mr. Crooks and Mr. M'Lellan
had been interrupted in a trading voyage by these ruffians of the river, and,
as it is in some degree connected with circumstances hereafter to be related,
we shall specify it more particularly.

About two years before the time of which we are treating, Crooks and
M'Lellan were ascending the river in boats with a party of about forty men,
bound on one of their trading expeditions to the upper tribes. In one of the
bends of the river, where the channel made a deep curve under impending
banks, they suddenly heard yells and shouts above them, and beheld the
cliffs overhead covered with armed savages. It was a band of Sioux
warriors, upwards of six hundred strong. They brandished their weapons in
a menacing manner, and ordered the boats to turn back and land lower
down the river. There was no disputing these commands, for they had the
power to shower destruction upon the white men, without risk to
themselves. Crooks and M'Lellan, therefore, turned back with feigned
alacrity, and, landing, had an interview with the Sioux. The latter forbade
them, under pain of exterminating hostility, from attempting to proceed up
the river, but offered to trade peacefully with them if they would halt where
they were. The party, being principally composed of voyageurs, was too
weak to contend with so superior a force, and one so easily augmented;
they pretended, therefore, to comply cheerfully with their arbitrary
dictation, and immediately proceeded to cut down trees and erect a trading
house. The warrior band departed for their village, which was about twenty
miles distant, to collect objects of traffic; they left six or eight of their
number, however, to keep watch upon the white men, and scouts were
continually passing to and fro with intelligence.

Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute his voyage

without the danger of having his boats plundered, and a great part of his
men massacred; he determined, however, not to be entirely frustrated in the
objects of his expedition. While he continued, therefore, with great
apparent earnestness and assiduity, the construction of the trading house, he
despatched the hunters and trappers of his party in a canoe, to make their
CHAPTER XVII. 138

way up the river to the original place of destination, there to busy

themselves in trapping and collecting peltries, and to await his arrival at
some future period.

As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend beyond the
hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly broke up his feigned
trading establishment, embarked his men and effects, and, after giving the
astonished rear−guard of savages a galling and indignant message to take to
their countrymen, pushed down the river with all speed, sparing neither oar
nor paddle, day nor night, until fairly beyond the swoop of these river
hawks.

What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan, at this

mortifying check to their gainful enterprise, was the information that a rival
trader was at the bottom of it; the Sioux, it is said, having been instigated to
this outrage by Mr. Manuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the
Missouri Fur Company, already mentioned. This intelligence, whether true
or false, so roused the fiery temper of M'Lellan, that he swore, if ever he
fell in with Lisa in the Indian country, he would shoot him on the spot; a
mode of redress perfectly in unison with the character of the man, and the
code of honor prevalent beyond the frontier.

If Crooks and M'Lellan had been exasperated by the insolent conduct of the
Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had occasioned, those freebooters had
been no less indignant at being outwitted by the white men, and
disappointed of their anticipated gains, and it was apprehended they would
be particularly hostile against the present expedition, when they should
learn that these gentlemen were engaged in it.

All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as possible from the
Canadian voyageurs, lest they should become intimidated; it was
impossible, however, to prevent the rumors brought by the Indians from
leaking out, and they became subjects of gossiping and exaggeration. The
chief of the Omahas, too, on returning from a hunting excursion, reported
that two men had been killed some distance above, by a band of Sioux.
This added to the fears that already began to be excited. The voyageurs
CHAPTER XVII. 139

pictured to themselves bands of fierce warriors stationed along each bank

of the river, by whom they would be exposed to be shot down in their
boats: or lurking hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre
them in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to return, rather
than fight their way, and, in a manner, run the gauntlet through the country
of these piratical marauders. In fact, three men deserted while at this
village. Luckily, their place was supplied by three others who happened to
be there, and who were prevailed on to join the expedition by promises of
liberal pay, and by being fitted out and equipped in complete style.

The irresolution and discontent visible among some of his people, arising at
times almost to mutiny, and the occasional desertions which took place
while thus among friendly tribes, and within reach of the frontiers, added
greatly to the anxieties of Mr. Hunt, and rendered him eager to press
forward and leave a hostile tract behind him, so that it would be as perilous
to return as to keep on, and no one would dare to desert.

Accordingly, on the 15th of May he departed from the village of the

Omahas, and set forward towards the country of the formidable Sioux
Tetons. For the first five days they had a fair and fresh breeze, and the boats
made good progress. The wind then came ahead, and the river beginning to
rise, and to increase in rapidity, betokened the commencement of the
annual flood, caused by the melting of the snow on the Rocky Mountains,
and the vernal rains of the upper prairies.

As they were now entering a region where foes might be lying in wait on
either bank, it was determined, in hunting for game, to confine themselves
principally to the islands, which sometimes extend to considerable length,
and are beautifully wooded, affording abundant pasturage and shade. On
one of these they killed three buffaloes and two elks, and halting on the
edge of a beautiful prairie, made a sumptuous hunter's repast. They had not
long resumed their boats and pulled along the river banks when they
descried a canoe approaching, navigated by two men, whom, to their
surprise, they ascertained to be white men. They proved to be two of those
strange and fearless wanderers of the wilderness, the trappers. Their names
were Benjamin Jones and Alexander Carson. They had been for two years
CHAPTER XVII. 140

past hunting and trapping near the head of the Missouri, and were thus
floating for thousands of miles in a cockle−shell, down a turbulent stream,
through regions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy and
unconcerned as if navigating securely in the midst of civilization.

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and dauntless hunters was
peculiarly desirable at the present moment. They needed but little
persuasion. The wilderness is the home of the trapper; like the sailor, he
cares but little to which point of the compass he steers; and Jones and
Carson readily abandoned their voyage to St. Louis, and turned their faces
towards the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific.

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall, who had joined the
expedition at St. Louis, still accompanied it, and pursued their researches
on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall seems to have been exclusively devoted to his
scientific pursuits. He was a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was
awakened at beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the
boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe of unknown
flowers. Whenever the boats landed at meal times, or for any temporary
purpose, he would spring on shore, and set out on a hunt for new
specimens. Every plant or flower of a rare or unknown species was eagerly
seized as a prize. Delighted with the treasures spreading themselves out
before him, he went groping and stumbling along among the wilderness of
sweets, forgetful of everything but his immediate pursuit, and had often to
be sought after when the boats were about to resume their course. At such
times he would be found far off in the prairies, or up the course of some
petty stream, laden with plants of all kinds.

The Canadian voyageurs, who are a class of people that know nothing out
of their immediate line, and with constitutional levity make a jest of
anything they cannot understand, were extremely puzzled by this passion
for collecting what they considered mere useless weeds. When they saw the
worthy botanist coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and
treasuring them up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, they used to
make merry among themselves at his expense, regarding him as some
whimsical kind of madman.
CHAPTER XVII. 141

Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and combined the
hunter and sportsman with the naturalist. He took his rifle or his
fowling−piece with him in his geological researches, conformed to the
hardy and rugged habits of the men around him, and of course gained favor
in their eyes. He had a strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious
in observing savage manners, and savage life, and ready to join any hunting
or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition was proceeding through a
dangerous neighborhood, he could not check his propensity to ramble.
Having observed, on the evening of the 22d of May, that the river ahead
made a great bend which would take up the navigation of the following
day, he determined to profit by the circumstance. On the morning of the
23d, therefore, instead of embarking, he filled his shot−pouch with parched
corn, for provisions, and set off to cross the neck on foot and meet the boats
in the afternoon at the opposite side of the bend. Mr. Hunt felt uneasy at his
venturing thus alone, and reminded him that he was in an enemy's country;
but Mr. Bradbury made light of the danger, and started off cheerily upon
his ramble. His day was passed pleasantly in traversing a beautiful tract,
making botanical and geological researches, and observing the habits of an
extensive village of prairie dogs, at which he made several ineffectual
shots, without considering the risk he ran of attracting the attention of any
savages that might be lurking in the neighborhood. In fact he had totally
forgotten the Sioux Tetons, and all the other perils of the country, when,
about the middle of the afternoon, as he stood near the river bank, and was
looking out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his shoulder.
Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage with a bow bent, and
the arrow pointed at his breast. In an instant his gun was leveled and his
hand upon the lock. The Indian drew his bow still further, but forbore to
launch the shaft. Mr. Bradbury, with admirable presence of mind, reflected
that the savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him without giving
him a chance of defense; he paused, therefore, and held out his hand. The
other took it in sign of friendship, and demanded in the Osage language
whether he was a Big Knife, or American. He answered in the affirmative,
and inquired whether the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found
that he was a Ponca. By his time two other Indians came running up, and all
three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and seemed disposed to compel him to go
off with them among the hills. He resisted, and sitting down on a sand hill
CHAPTER XVII. 142

contrived to amuse them with a pocket compass. When the novelty of this
was exhausted they again seized him, but he now produced a small
microscope. This new wonder again fixed the attention of the savages, who
have more curiosity than it has been the custom to allow them. While thus
engaged, one of them suddenly leaped up and gave a war−whoop. The hand
of the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was prepared to make
battle, when the Indian pointed down the river and revealed the true cause
of his yell. It was the mast of one of the boats appearing above the low
willows which bordered the stream. Mr. Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by
the sight. The Indians on their part now showed signs of apprehension, and
were disposed to run away; but he assured them of good treatment and
something to drink if they would accompany him on board of the boats.
They lingered for a time, but disappeared before the boats came to land.

On the following morning they appeared at camp accompanied by several

of their tribe. With them came also a white man, who announced himself as
a messenger bearing missives for Mr. Hunt. In fact he brought a letter from
Mr. Manuel Lisa, partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As has
already been mentioned, this gentleman was going in search of Mr. Henry
and his party, who had been dislodged from the forks of the Missouri by the
Blackfeet Indians, and had shifted his post somewhere beyond the Rocky
Mountains. Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after Mr. Hunt, and
having heard of the hostile intentions of the Sioux, had made the greatest
exertions to overtake him, that they might pass through the dangerous part
of the river together. He had twenty stout oarsmen in his service and they
plied their oars so vigorously, that he had reached the Omaha village just
four days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he despatched
the messenger in question, trusting to his overtaking the barges as they
toiled up against the stream, and were delayed by the windings of the river.
The purport of his letter was to entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he could
come up with him, that they might unite their forces and be a protection to
each other in their perilous course through the country of the Sioux. In fact,
as it was afterwards ascertained, Lisa was apprehensive that Mr. Hunt
would do him some ill office with the Sioux band, securing his own
passage through their country by pretending that he, with whom they were
accustomed to trade, was on his way to them with a plentiful supply of
CHAPTER XVII. 143

goods. He feared, too, that Crooks and M'Lellan would take this
opportunity to retort upon him the perfidy which they accused him of
having used, two years previously, among these very Sioux. In this respect,
however, he did them signal injustice. There was no such thing as court
design or treachery in their thought; but M'Lellan, when he heard that Lisa
was on his way up the river, renewed his open threat of shooting him the
moment he met him on Indian land.

The representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan of the treachery they had
experienced, or fancied, on the part of Lisa, had great weight with Mr.
Hunt, especially when he recollected the obstacles that had been thrown in
his way by that gentleman at St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, the fair
dealing of Lisa, and feared that, should they enter the Sioux country
together, the latter might make use of his influence with that tribe, as he
had in the case of Crooks and M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose his
progress up the river.

He sent back, therefore, an answer calculated to beguile Lisa, assuring him

that he would wait for him at the Poncas village, which was but a little
distance in advance; but, no sooner had the messenger departed, than he
pushed forward with all diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure
a supply of dried buffalo meat, and hastened to leave the other party as far
behind as possible, thinking there was less to be apprehended from the open
hostility of Indian foes than from the quiet strategy of an Indian trader.

CHAPTER XVII.

Rumors of Danger From the Sioux Tetons.− Ruthless Character of Those

Savages.− Pirates of the Missouri.− Their Affair with Crooks and
M'Lellan.− A Trading Expedition Broken Up.− M'Lellan's Vow of
Vengeance.− Uneasiness in the Camp.− Desertions.− Departure From the
Omaha Village.− Meeting With Jones and Carson, two Adventurous
Trappers.− Scientific Pursuits of Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall. − Zeal of a
Botanist.− Adventure of Mr. Bradbury with a Ponca Indian. −Expedient of
the Pocket Compass and Microscope.− A Messenger From Lisa.− Motives
CHAPTER XVII. 144

for Pressing Forward.

WHILE Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the village of the
Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton Alma tribe arrived, bringing
unpleasant intelligence. They reported that certain bands of the Sioux
Tetons, who inhabited a region many leagues further up the Missouri, were
near at hand, awaiting the approach of the party, with the avowed intention
of opposing their progress.

The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the Missouri, who
considered the well freighted bark of the American trader fair game. They
had their own traffic with the British merchants of the Northwest, who
brought them regular supplies of merchandise by way of the river St. Peter.
Being thus independent of the Missouri traders for their supplies, they kept
no terms with them, but plundered them whenever they had an opportunity.
It has been insinuated that they were prompted to these outrages by the
British merchants, who wished to keep off all rivals in the Indian trade; but
others allege another motive, and one savoring of a deeper policy. The
Sioux, by their intercourse with the British traders, had acquired the use of
firearms, which had given them vast superiority over other tribes higher up
the Missouri. They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for the
upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly advanced
prices, with goods derived from the white men. The Sioux, therefore, saw
with jealousy the American traders pushing their way up the Missouri;
foreseeing that the upper tribes would thus be relieved from all dependence
on them for supplies; nay, what was worse, would be furnished with
fire−arms, and elevated into formidable rivals.

We have already alluded to a case in which Mr. Crooks and Mr. M'Lellan
had been interrupted in a trading voyage by these ruffians of the river, and,
as it is in some degree connected with circumstances hereafter to be related,
we shall specify it more particularly.

About two years before the time of which we are treating, Crooks and
M'Lellan were ascending the river in boats with a party of about forty men,
bound on one of their trading expeditions to the upper tribes. In one of the
CHAPTER XVII. 145

bends of the river, where the channel made a deep curve under impending
banks, they suddenly heard yells and shouts above them, and beheld the
cliffs overhead covered with armed savages. It was a band of Sioux
warriors, upwards of six hundred strong. They brandished their weapons in
a menacing manner, and ordered the boats to turn back and land lower
down the river. There was no disputing these commands, for they had the
power to shower destruction upon the white men, without risk to
themselves. Crooks and M'Lellan, therefore, turned back with feigned
alacrity, and, landing, had an interview with the Sioux. The latter forbade
them, under pain of exterminating hostility, from attempting to proceed up
the river, but offered to trade peacefully with them if they would halt where
they were. The party, being principally composed of voyageurs, was too
weak to contend with so superior a force, and one so easily augmented;
they pretended, therefore, to comply cheerfully with their arbitrary
dictation, and immediately proceeded to cut down trees and erect a trading
house. The warrior band departed for their village, which was about twenty
miles distant, to collect objects of traffic; they left six or eight of their
number, however, to keep watch upon the white men, and scouts were
continually passing to and fro with intelligence.

Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute his voyage

without the danger of having his boats plundered, and a great part of his
men massacred; he determined, however, not to be entirely frustrated in the
objects of his expedition. While he continued, therefore, with great
apparent earnestness and assiduity, the construction of the trading house, he
despatched the hunters and trappers of his party in a canoe, to make their
way up the river to the original place of destination, there to busy
themselves in trapping and collecting peltries, and to await his arrival at
some future period.

As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend beyond the
hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly broke up his feigned
trading establishment, embarked his men and effects, and, after giving the
astonished rear−guard of savages a galling and indignant message to take to
their countrymen, pushed down the river with all speed, sparing neither oar
nor paddle, day nor night, until fairly beyond the swoop of these river
CHAPTER XVII. 146

hawks.

What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan, at this

mortifying check to their gainful enterprise, was the information that a rival
trader was at the bottom of it; the Sioux, it is said, having been instigated to
this outrage by Mr. Manuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the
Missouri Fur Company, already mentioned. This intelligence, whether true
or false, so roused the fiery temper of M'Lellan, that he swore, if ever he
fell in with Lisa in the Indian country, he would shoot him on the spot; a
mode of redress perfectly in unison with the character of the man, and the
code of honor prevalent beyond the frontier.

If Crooks and M'Lellan had been exasperated by the insolent conduct of the
Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had occasioned, those freebooters had
been no less indignant at being outwitted by the white men, and
disappointed of their anticipated gains, and it was apprehended they would
be particularly hostile against the present expedition, when they should
learn that these gentlemen were engaged in it.

All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as possible from the
Canadian voyageurs, lest they should become intimidated; it was
impossible, however, to prevent the rumors brought by the Indians from
leaking out, and they became subjects of gossiping and exaggeration. The
chief of the Omahas, too, on returning from a hunting excursion, reported
that two men had been killed some distance above, by a band of Sioux.
This added to the fears that already began to be excited. The voyageurs
pictured to themselves bands of fierce warriors stationed along each bank
of the river, by whom they would be exposed to be shot down in their
boats: or lurking hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre
them in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to return, rather
than fight their way, and, in a manner, run the gauntlet through the country
of these piratical marauders. In fact, three men deserted while at this
village. Luckily, their place was supplied by three others who happened to
be there, and who were prevailed on to join the expedition by promises of
liberal pay, and by being fitted out and equipped in complete style.
CHAPTER XVII. 147

The irresolution and discontent visible among some of his people, arising at
times almost to mutiny, and the occasional desertions which took place
while thus among friendly tribes, and within reach of the frontiers, added
greatly to the anxieties of Mr. Hunt, and rendered him eager to press
forward and leave a hostile tract behind him, so that it would be as perilous
to return as to keep on, and no one would dare to desert.

Accordingly, on the 15th of May he departed from the village of the

Omahas, and set forward towards the country of the formidable Sioux
Tetons. For the first five days they had a fair and fresh breeze, and the boats
made good progress. The wind then came ahead, and the river beginning to
rise, and to increase in rapidity, betokened the commencement of the
annual flood, caused by the melting of the snow on the Rocky Mountains,
and the vernal rains of the upper prairies.

As they were now entering a region where foes might be lying in wait on
either bank, it was determined, in hunting for game, to confine themselves
principally to the islands, which sometimes extend to considerable length,
and are beautifully wooded, affording abundant pasturage and shade. On
one of these they killed three buffaloes and two elks, and halting on the
edge of a beautiful prairie, made a sumptuous hunter's repast. They had not
long resumed their boats and pulled along the river banks when they
descried a canoe approaching, navigated by two men, whom, to their
surprise, they ascertained to be white men. They proved to be two of those
strange and fearless wanderers of the wilderness, the trappers. Their names
were Benjamin Jones and Alexander Carson. They had been for two years
past hunting and trapping near the head of the Missouri, and were thus
floating for thousands of miles in a cockle−shell, down a turbulent stream,
through regions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy and
unconcerned as if navigating securely in the midst of civilization.

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and dauntless hunters was
peculiarly desirable at the present moment. They needed but little
persuasion. The wilderness is the home of the trapper; like the sailor, he
cares but little to which point of the compass he steers; and Jones and
Carson readily abandoned their voyage to St. Louis, and turned their faces
CHAPTER XVII. 148

towards the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific.

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall, who had joined the
expedition at St. Louis, still accompanied it, and pursued their researches
on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall seems to have been exclusively devoted to his
scientific pursuits. He was a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was
awakened at beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the
boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe of unknown
flowers. Whenever the boats landed at meal times, or for any temporary
purpose, he would spring on shore, and set out on a hunt for new
specimens. Every plant or flower of a rare or unknown species was eagerly
seized as a prize. Delighted with the treasures spreading themselves out
before him, he went groping and stumbling along among the wilderness of
sweets, forgetful of everything but his immediate pursuit, and had often to
be sought after when the boats were about to resume their course. At such
times he would be found far off in the prairies, or up the course of some
petty stream, laden with plants of all kinds.

The Canadian voyageurs, who are a class of people that know nothing out
of their immediate line, and with constitutional levity make a jest of
anything they cannot understand, were extremely puzzled by this passion
for collecting what they considered mere useless weeds. When they saw the
worthy botanist coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and
treasuring them up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, they used to
make merry among themselves at his expense, regarding him as some
whimsical kind of madman.

Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and combined the
hunter and sportsman with the naturalist. He took his rifle or his
fowling−piece with him in his geological researches, conformed to the
hardy and rugged habits of the men around him, and of course gained favor
in their eyes. He had a strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious
in observing savage manners, and savage life, and ready to join any hunting
or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition was proceeding through a
dangerous neighborhood, he could not check his propensity to ramble.
Having observed, on the evening of the 22d of May, that the river ahead
CHAPTER XVII. 149

made a great bend which would take up the navigation of the following
day, he determined to profit by the circumstance. On the morning of the
23d, therefore, instead of embarking, he filled his shot−pouch with parched
corn, for provisions, and set off to cross the neck on foot and meet the boats
in the afternoon at the opposite side of the bend. Mr. Hunt felt uneasy at his
venturing thus alone, and reminded him that he was in an enemy's country;
but Mr. Bradbury made light of the danger, and started off cheerily upon
his ramble. His day was passed pleasantly in traversing a beautiful tract,
making botanical and geological researches, and observing the habits of an
extensive village of prairie dogs, at which he made several ineffectual
shots, without considering the risk he ran of attracting the attention of any
savages that might be lurking in the neighborhood. In fact he had totally
forgotten the Sioux Tetons, and all the other perils of the country, when,
about the middle of the afternoon, as he stood near the river bank, and was
looking out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his shoulder.
Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage with a bow bent, and
the arrow pointed at his breast. In an instant his gun was leveled and his
hand upon the lock. The Indian drew his bow still further, but forbore to
launch the shaft. Mr. Bradbury, with admirable presence of mind, reflected
that the savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him without giving
him a chance of defense; he paused, therefore, and held out his hand. The
other took it in sign of friendship, and demanded in the Osage language
whether he was a Big Knife, or American. He answered in the affirmative,
and inquired whether the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found
that he was a Ponca. By his time two other Indians came running up, and all
three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and seemed disposed to compel him to go
off with them among the hills. He resisted, and sitting down on a sand hill
contrived to amuse them with a pocket compass. When the novelty of this
was exhausted they again seized him, but he now produced a small
microscope. This new wonder again fixed the attention of the savages, who
have more curiosity than it has been the custom to allow them. While thus
engaged, one of them suddenly leaped up and gave a war−whoop. The hand
of the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was prepared to make
battle, when the Indian pointed down the river and revealed the true cause
of his yell. It was the mast of one of the boats appearing above the low
willows which bordered the stream. Mr. Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by
CHAPTER XVII. 150

the sight. The Indians on their part now showed signs of apprehension, and
were disposed to run away; but he assured them of good treatment and
something to drink if they would accompany him on board of the boats.
They lingered for a time, but disappeared before the boats came to land.

On the following morning they appeared at camp accompanied by several

of their tribe. With them came also a white man, who announced himself as
a messenger bearing missives for Mr. Hunt. In fact he brought a letter from
Mr. Manuel Lisa, partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As has
already been mentioned, this gentleman was going in search of Mr. Henry
and his party, who had been dislodged from the forks of the Missouri by the
Blackfeet Indians, and had shifted his post somewhere beyond the Rocky
Mountains. Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after Mr. Hunt, and
having heard of the hostile intentions of the Sioux, had made the greatest
exertions to overtake him, that they might pass through the dangerous part
of the river together. He had twenty stout oarsmen in his service and they
plied their oars so vigorously, that he had reached the Omaha village just
four days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he despatched
the messenger in question, trusting to his overtaking the barges as they
toiled up against the stream, and were delayed by the windings of the river.
The purport of his letter was to entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he could
come up with him, that they might unite their forces and be a protection to
each other in their perilous course through the country of the Sioux. In fact,
as it was afterwards ascertained, Lisa was apprehensive that Mr. Hunt
would do him some ill office with the Sioux band, securing his own
passage through their country by pretending that he, with whom they were
accustomed to trade, was on his way to them with a plentiful supply of
goods. He feared, too, that Crooks and M'Lellan would take this
opportunity to retort upon him the perfidy which they accused him of
having used, two years previously, among these very Sioux. In this respect,
however, he did them signal injustice. There was no such thing as court
design or treachery in their thought; but M'Lellan, when he heard that Lisa
was on his way up the river, renewed his open threat of shooting him the
moment he met him on Indian land.
CHAPTER XVIII. 151

The representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan of the treachery they had
experienced, or fancied, on the part of Lisa, had great weight with Mr.
Hunt, especially when he recollected the obstacles that had been thrown in
his way by that gentleman at St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, the fair
dealing of Lisa, and feared that, should they enter the Sioux country
together, the latter might make use of his influence with that tribe, as he
had in the case of Crooks and M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose his
progress up the river.

He sent back, therefore, an answer calculated to beguile Lisa, assuring him

that he would wait for him at the Poncas village, which was but a little
distance in advance; but, no sooner had the messenger departed, than he
pushed forward with all diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure
a supply of dried buffalo meat, and hastened to leave the other party as far
behind as possible, thinking there was less to be apprehended from the open
hostility of Indian foes than from the quiet strategy of an Indian trader.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Camp Gossip.− Deserters.− Recruits.− Kentucky Hunters.− A Veteran

Woodman.− Tidings of Mr. Henry.−Danger From the Blackfeet. −
Alteration of Plans.− Scenery of the River.− Buffalo Roads.− Iron Ore.−
Country of the Sioux.− A Land of Danger.−apprehensions of the
Voyageurs.− Indian Scouts.− Threatened Hostilities.− A Council of War.−
An Array of Battle.−A Parley.− The Pipe of Peace.− Speech−Making.

IT was about noon when the party left the Poncas village, about a league
beyond which they passed the mouth of the Quicourt, or Rapid River
(called, in the original French, l'Eau Qui Court). After having proceeded
some distance further, they landed, and encamped for the night. In the
evening camp, the voyageurs gossiped, as usual, over the events of the day;
and especially over intelligence picked up among the Poncas. These Indians
had confirmed the previous reports of the hostile intentions of the Sioux,
and had assured them that five tribes, or bands, of that fierce nation were
actually assembled higher up the river, and waiting to cut them off. This
CHAPTER XVIII. 152

evening gossip, and the terrific stories of Indian warfare to which it gave
rise, produced a strong effect upon the imagination of the irresolute; and in
the morning it was discovered that the two men, who had joined the party at
the Omaha village, and been so bounteously fitted out, had deserted in the
course of the night, carrying with them all their equipments. As it was
known that one of them could not swim, it was hoped that the banks of the
Quicourt River would bring them to a halt. A general pursuit was therefore
instituted, but without success.

On the following morning (May 26th), as they were all on shore,

breakfasting on one of the beautiful banks of the river, they observed two
canoes descending along the opposite side. By the aid of spy−glasses, they
ascertained that there were two white men in one of the canoes, and one in
the other. A gun was discharged, which called the attention of the voyagers,
who crossed over. They proved to be the three Kentucky hunters, of the
true "dreadnought" stamp. Their names were Edward Robinson, John
Hoback, and Jacob Rizner. Robinson was a veteran backwoodsman,
sixty−six years of age. He had been one of the first settlers of Kentucky,
and engaged in many of the conflicts of the Indians on "the Bloody
Ground." In one of these battles he had been scalped, and he still wore a
handkerchief bound round his head to protect the part. These men had
passed several years in the upper wilderness. They had been in the service
of the Missouri Company under Mr. Henry, and had crossed the Rocky
Mountains with him in the preceding year, when driven from his post on
the Missouri by the hostilities of the Blackfeet. After crossing the
mountains, Mr. Henry had established himself on one of the head branches
of the Columbia River. There they had remained with him some months,
hunting and trapping, until, having satisfied their wandering propensities,
they felt disposed to return to the families and comfortable homes which
they had left in Kentucky. They had accordingly made their way back
across the mountains, and down the rivers, and were in full career for St.
Louis, when thus suddenly interrupted. The sight of a powerful party of
traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, well armed and equipped,
furnished at all points, in high health and spirits, and banqueting lustily on
the green margin of the river, was a spectacle equally stimulating to these
veteran backwoodsmen with the glorious array of a campaigning army to
CHAPTER XVIII. 153

an old soldier; but when they learned the grand scope and extent of the
enterprise in hand, it was irresistible; homes and families and all the charms
of green Kentucky vanished from their thoughts; they cast loose their
canoes to drift down the stream, and joyfully enlisted in the band of
adventurers. They engaged on similar terms with some of the other hunters.
The company was to fit them out, and keep them supplied with the requisite
equipments and munitions, and they were to yield one half of the produce
of their hunting and trapping.

The addition of three such staunch recruits was extremely acceptable at this
dangerous part of the river. The knowledge of the country which they had
acquired, also, in their journeys and hunting excursions along the rivers and
among the Rocky Mountains was all important; in fact, the information
derived from them induced Mr. Hunt to alter his future course. He had
hitherto intended to proceed by the route taken by Lewis and Clarke in their
famous exploring expedition, ascending he Missouri to its forks, and thence
going, by land, across the mountains. These men informed him, however,
that, on taking that course he would have to pass through the country
invested by the savage tribe of the Blackfeet, and would be exposed to their
hostilities; they being, as has already been observed, exasperated to deadly
animosity against the whites, on account of the death of one of their tribe
by the hand of Captain Lewis. They advised him rather to pursue a route
more to the southward, being the same by which they had returned. This
would carry them over the mountains about where the head−waters of the
Platte and the Yellowstone take their rise, at a place much more easy and
practicable than that where Lewis and Clarke had crossed. In pursuing this
course, also, he would pass through a country abounding with game, where
he would have a better chance of procuring a constant supply of provisions
than by the other route, and would run less risk of molestation from the
Blackfeet. Should he adopt this advice, it would be better for him to
abandon the river at the Arickara town, at which he would arrive in the
course of a few days. As the Indians at that town possessed horses in
abundance, he might purchase a sufficient number of them for his great
journey overland, which would commence at that place.
CHAPTER XVIII. 154

After reflecting on this advice, and consulting with his associates, Mr. Hunt
came to the determination to follow the route thus pointed out, to which the
hunters engaged to pilot him.

The party continued their voyage with delightful May weather. The prairies
bordering on the river were gayly painted with innumerable flowers,
exhibiting the motley confusion of colors of a Turkey carpet. The beautiful
islands, also, on which they occasionally halted, presented the appearance
of mingled grove and garden. The trees were often covered with clambering
grapevines in blossom, which perfumed the air. Between the stately masses
of the groves were grassy lawns and glades, studded with flowers, or
interspersed with rose−bushes in full bloom. These islands were often the
resort of the buffalo, the elk, and the antelope, who had made innumerable
paths among the trees and thickets, which had the effect of the mazy walks
and alleys of parks and shrubberies. Sometimes, where the river passed
between high banks and bluffs, the roads made by the tramp of buffaloes
for many ages along the face of the heights, looked like so many
well−travelled highways. At other places the banks were banded with great
veins of iron ore, laid bare by the abrasion of the river. At one place the
course of the river was nearly in a straight line for about fifteen miles. The
banks sloped gently to its margin, without a single tree, but bordered with
grass and herbage of a vivid green. Along each bank, for the whole fifteen
miles, extended a stripe, one hundred yards in breadth, of a deep rusty
brown, indicating an inexhaustible bed of iron, through the center of which
the Missouri had worn its way. Indications of the continuance of this bed
were afterwards observed higher up the river. It is, in fact, one of the
mineral magazines which nature has provided in the heart of this vast realm
of fertility, and which, in connection with the immense beds of coal on the
same river, seem garnered up as the elements of the future wealth and
power of the mighty West.

The sight of these mineral treasures greatly excited the curiosity of Mr.
Bradbury, and it was tantalizing to him to be checked in his scientific
researches, and obliged to forego his usual rambles on shore; but they were
now entering the fated country of the Sioux Tetons, in which it was
dangerous to wander about unguarded.
CHAPTER XVIII. 155

This country extends for some days' journey along the river, and consists of
vast prairies, here and there diversified by swelling hills, and cut up by
ravines, the channels of turbid streams in the rainy seasons, but almost
destitute of water during the heats of summer. Here and there on the sides
of the hills, or along the alluvial borders and bottoms of the ravines, are
groves and skirts of forest: but for the most part the country presented to
the eye a boundless waste, covered with herbage, but without trees.

The soil of this immense region is strongly impregnated with sulphur,

copperas, alum, and glauber salts; its various earths impart a deep tinge to
the streams which drain it, and these, with the crumbling of the banks along
the Missouri, give to the waters of that river much of the coloring matter
with which they are clouded.

Over this vast tract the roving bands of the Sioux Tetons hold their vagrant
sway, subsisting by the chase of the buffalo, the elk, the deer, and the
antelope, and waging ruthless warfare with other wandering tribes.

As the boats made their way up the stream bordered by this land of danger,
many of the Canadian voyageurs, whose fears had been awakened, would
regard with a distrustful eye the boundless waste extending on each side.
All, however, was silent, and apparently untenanted by a human being.
Now and then a herd of deer would be seen feeding tranquilly among the
flowery herbage, or a line of buffaloes, like a caravan on its march, moving
across the distant profile of the prairie. The Canadians, however, began to
apprehend an ambush in every thicket, and to regard the broad, tranquil
plain as a sailor eyes some shallow and perfidious sea, which, though
smooth and safe to the eye, conceals the lurking rock or treacherous shoal.
The very name of a Sioux became a watchword of terror. Not an elk, a
wolf, or any other animal, could appear on the hills, but the boats
resounded with exclamations from stem to stern,"voila les Sioux! voila les
Sioux!" (there are the Sioux! there are the Sioux!) Whenever it was
practicable, the night encampment was on some island in the center of the
stream.
CHAPTER XVIII. 156

On the morning of the 31st of May, as the travellers were breakfasting on

the right bank of the river, the usual alarm was given, but with more reason,
as two Indians actually made their appearance on a bluff on the opposite or
northern side, and harangued them in a loud voice. As it was impossible at
that distance to distinguish what they said, Mr. Hunt, after breakfast,
crossed the river with Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, and advanced boldly to
converse with them, while the rest remained watching in mute suspense the
movements of the parties. As soon as Mr. Hunt landed, one of the Indians
disappeared behind the hill, but shortly reappeared on horseback, and went
scouring off across the heights. Mr. Hunt held some conference with the
remaining savage, and then recrossed the river to his party.

These two Indians proved to be spies or scouts of a large war party

encamped about a league off, and numbering two hundred and eighty
lodges, or about six hundred warriors, of three different tribes of Sioux; the
Yangtons Ahna, the Tetons Bois−brule, and the Tetons Min−na−kine−azzo.
They expected daily to be reinforced by two other tribes, and had been
waiting eleven days for the arrival of Mr. Hunt's party, with a determination
to oppose their progress up the river; being resolved to prevent all trade of
the white men with their enemies the Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees.
The Indian who had galloped off on horseback had gone to give notice of
the approach of the party, so that they might now look out for some fierce
scenes with those piratical savages, of whom they had received so many
formidable accounts.

The party braced up their spirits to the encounter, and reembarking, pulled
resolutely up the stream. An island for some time intervened between them
and the opposite side of the river; but on clearing the upper end, they came
in full view of the hostile shore. There was a ridge of hills down which the
savages were pouring in great numbers, some on horseback, and some on
foot. Reconnoitering them with the aid of glasses, they perceived that they
were all in warlike array, painted and decorated for battle. Their weapons
were bows and arrows, and a few short carbines, and most of them had
round shields. Altogether they had a wild and gallant appearance, and,
taking possession of a point which commanded the river, ranged
themselves along the bank as if prepared to dispute their passage.
CHAPTER XVIII. 157

At sight of this formidable front of war, Mr. Hunt and his companions held
counsel together. It was plain that the rumors they had heard were correct,
and the Sioux were determined to oppose their progress by force of arms.
To attempt to elude them and continue along the river was out of the
question. The strength of the mid−current was too violent to be withstood,
and the boats were obliged to ascend along the river banks. These banks
were often high and perpendicular, affording the savages frequent stations,
from whence, safe themselves, and almost unseen, they might shower down
their missiles upon the boats below, and retreat at will, without danger from
pursuit. Nothing apparently remained, therefore, but to fight or turn back.
The Sioux far outnumbered them, it is true, but their own party was about
sixty strong, well armed and supplied with ammunition; and, beside their
guns and rifles, they had a swivel and two howitzers mounted in the boats.
Should they succeed in breaking this Indian force by one vigorous assault,
it was likely they would be deterred from making any future attack of
consequence. The fighting alternative was, therefore, instantly adopted, and
the boats pulled to shore nearly opposite to the hostile force. Here the arms
were all examined and put in order. The swivel and howitzers were then
loaded with powder and discharged, to let the savages know by the report
how formidably they were provided. The noise echoed along the shores of
the river, and must have startled the warriors who were only accustomed to
sharp reports of rifles. The same pieces were then loaded with as many
bullets as they would probably bear; after which the whole party embarked,
and pulled across the river. The Indians remained watching them in silence,
their painted forms and visages glaring in the sun, and their feathers
fluttering in the breeze. The poor Canadians eyed them with rueful glances,
and now and then a fearful ejaculation escaped them. "Parbleu! this is a sad
scrape we are in, brother!" one would mutter to the next oarsman. "Aye,
aye!" the other would reply, "we are not going to a wedding, my friend!"

When the boats arrived within rifle−shot, the hunters and other fighting
personages on board seized their weapons, and prepared for action. As they
rose to fire, a confusion took place among the savages. They displayed their
buffalo robes, raised them with both hands above their heads, and then
spread them before them on the ground. At sight of this, Pierre Dorion
eagerly cried out to the party not to fire, as this movement was a peaceful
CHAPTER XVIII. 158

signal, and an invitation to a parley. Immediately about a dozen of the

principal warriors, separating from the rest, descended to the edge of the
river, lighted a fire, seated themselves in a semicircle round it, and,
displaying the calumet, invited the party to land. Mr. Hunt now called a
council of the partners on board of his boat. The question was, whether to
trust to the amicable overtures of these ferocious people? It was determined
in the affirmative; for, otherwise, there was no alternative but to fight them.
The main body of the party were ordered to remain on board of the boats,
keeping within shot and prepared to fire in case of any signs of treachery;
while Mr. Hunt and the other partners (M'Kenzie, Crooks, Miller, and
M'Lellan) proceeded to land, accompanied by the interpreter and Mr.
Bradbury. The chiefs, who awaited them on the margin of the river,
remained seated in their semicircle, without stirring a limb or moving a
muscle, motionless as so many statues. Mr. Hunt and his companions
advanced without hesitation, and took their seats on the sand so as to
complete the circle. The band of warriors who lined the banks above stood
looking down in silent groups and clusters, some ostentatiously equipped
and decorated, others entirely naked but fantastically painted, and all
variously armed.

The pipe of peace was now brought forward with due ceremony. The bowl
was of a species of red stone resembling porphyry; the stem was six feet in
length, decorated with tufts of horse−hair dyed red. The pipe−bearer
stepped within the circle, lighted the pipe, held it towards the sun, then
towards the different points of the compass, after which he handed it to the
principal chief. The latter smoked a few whiffs, then, holding the head of
the pipe in his hand, offered the other end to Mr. Hunt, and to each one
successively in the circle. When all had smoked, it was considered that an
assurance of good faith and amity had been interchanged. Mr. Hunt now
made a speech in French, which was interpreted as he proceeded by Pierre
Dorion. He informed the Sioux of the real object of the expedition of
himself and his companions, which was, not to trade with any of the tribes
up the river, but to cross the mountains to the great salt lake in the west, in
search of some of their brothers, whom they had not seen for eleven
months. That he had heard of the intention of the Sioux to oppose his
passage, and was prepared, as they might see, to effect it at all hazards;
CHAPTER XIX. 159

nevertheless, his feelings towards the Sioux were friendly, in proof of

which he had brought them a present of tobacco and corn. So saying, he
ordered about fifteen carottes of tobacco, and as many bags of corn, to be
brought from the boat and laid in a heap near the council fire.

The sight of these presents mollified the chieftain, who had, doubtless, been
previously rendered considerate by the resolute conduct of the white men,
the judicious disposition of their little armament, the completeness of their
equipments, and the compact array of battle which they presented. He made
a speech in reply, in which he stated the object of their hostile assemblage,
which had been merely to prevent supplies of arms and ammunition from
going to the Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, with whom they were at
war; but being now convinced that the party were carrying no supplies of
the kind, but merely proceeding in quest of their brothers beyond the
mountains, they would not impede them in their voyage. He concluded by
thanking them for their present, and advising them to encamp on the
opposite side of the river, as he had some young men among his warriors
for whose discretion he could not be answerable, and who might be
troublesome.

Here ended the conference: they all arose, shook hands, and parted. Mr.
Hunt and his companions re−embarked, and the boats proceeded on their
course unmolested.

CHAPTER XIX.

The Great Bend of the Missouri− Crooks and M'Lellan Meet With Two of
Their Indian Opponents− Wanton Outrage of a White Man the Cause of
Indian Hostility− Dangers and Precautions.−An Indian War Party.−
Dangerous Situation of Mr. Hunt.− A Friendly Encampment. −Feasting and
Dancing.− Approach of Manuel Lisa and His Party −.A Grim Meeting
Between Old Rivals.− Pierre Dorion in a Fury.− A Burst of chivalry.

ON the afternoon of the following day (June 1st) they arrived at the great
bend, where the river winds for about thirty miles round a circular
CHAPTER XIX. 160

peninsula, the neck of which is not above two thousand yards across. On
the succeeding morning, at an early hour, they descried two Indians
standing on a high bank of the river, waving and spreading their buffalo
robes in signs of amity. They immediately pulled to shore and landed. On
approaching the savages, however, the latter showed evident symptoms of
alarm, spreading out their arms horizontally, according to their mode of
supplicating clemency. The reason was soon explained. They proved to be
two chiefs of the very war party that had brought Messrs. Crooks and
M'Lellan to a stand two years before, and obliged them to escape down the
river. They ran to embrace these gentlemen, as if delighted to meet with
them; yet they evidently feared some retaliation of their past misconduct,
nor were they quite at ease until the pipe of peace had been smoked.

Mr. Hunt having been informed that the tribe to which these men belonged
had killed three white men during the preceding summer, reproached them
with the crime, and demanded their reasons for such savage hostility. "We
kill white men," replied one of the chiefs, "because white men kill us. That
very man," added he, pointing to Carson, one of the new recruits, "killed
one of our brothers last summer. The three white men were slain to avenge
his death."

Their chief was correct in his reply. Carson admitted that, being with a
party of Arickaras on the banks of the Missouri, and seeing a war party of
Sioux on the opposite side, he had fired with his rifle across. It was a
random shot, made without much expectation of effect, for the river was
full half a mile in breadth. Unluckily it brought down a Sioux warrior, for
whose wanton destruction threefold vengeance had been taken, as has been
stated. In this way outrages are frequently committed on the natives by
thoughtless or mischievous white men; the Indians retaliate according to a
law of their code, which requires blood for blood; their act, of what with
them is pious vengeance, resounds throughout the land, and is represented
as wanton and unprovoked; the neighborhood is roused to arms; a war
ensues, which ends in the destruction of half the tribe, the ruin of the rest,
and their expulsion from their hereditary homes. Such is too often the real
history of Indian warfare, which in general is traced up only to some
vindictive act of a savage; while the outrage of the scoundrel white man
CHAPTER XIX. 161

that provoked it is sunk in silence.

The two chiefs, having smoked their pipe of peace and received a few
presents, departed well satisfied. In a little while two others appeared on
horseback, and rode up abreast of the boats. They had seen the presents
given to their comrades, but were dissatisfied with them, and came after the
boats to ask for more. Being somewhat peremptory and insolent in their
demands, Mr. Hunt gave them a flat refusal, and threatened, if they or any
of their tribes followed him with similar demands, to treat them as enemies.
They turned and rode off in a furious passion. As he was ignorant what
force these chiefs might have behind the hills, and as it was very possible
they might take advantage of some pass of the river to attack the boats, Mr.
Hunt called all stragglers on board and prepared for such emergency. It was
agreed that the large boat commanded by Mr. Hunt should ascend along the
northeast side of the river, and the three smaller boats along the south side.
By this arrangement each party would command a view of the opposite
heights above the heads and out of sight of their companions, and could
give the alarm should they perceive any Indians lurking there. The signal of
alarm was to be two shots fired in quick succession.

The boats proceeded for the greater part of the day without seeing any signs
of an enemy. About four o'clock in the afternoon the large boat,
commanded by Mr. Hunt, came to where the river was divided by a long
sand−bar, which apparently, however, left a sufficient channel between it
and the shore along which they were advancing. He kept up this channel,
therefore, for some distance, until the water proved too shallow for the
boat. It was necessary, therefore, to put about, return down the channel, and
pull round the lower end of the sand−bar into the main stream. Just as he
had given orders to this effect to his men, two signal guns were fired from
the boats on the opposite side of the river. At the same moment, a file of
savage warriors was observed pouring down from the impending bank, and
gathering on the shore at the lower end of the bar. They were evidently a
war party, being armed with bows and arrows, battle clubs and carbines,
and round bucklers of buffalo hide, and their naked bodies were painted
with black and white stripes. The natural inference was, that they belonged
to the two tribes of Sioux which had been expected by the great war party,
CHAPTER XIX. 162

and that they had been incited to hostility by the two chiefs who had been
enraged by the refusal and the menace of Mr. Hunt. Here then was a fearful
predicament. Mr. Hunt and his crew seemed caught, as it were, in a trap.
The Indians, to a number of about a hundred, had already taken possession
of a point near which the boat would have to pass: others kept pouring
down the bank, and it was probable that some would remain posted on the
top of the height.

The hazardous situation of Mr. Hunt was perceived by those in the other
boats, and they hastened to his assistance. They were at some distance
above the sand−bar, however, and on the opposite side of the river, and
saw, with intense anxiety, the number of savages continually augmenting,
at the lower end of the channel, so that the boat would be exposed to a
fearful attack before they could render it any assistance. Their anxiety
increased, as they saw Mr. Hunt and his party descending the channel and
dauntlessly approaching the point of danger; but it suddenly changed into
surprise on beholding the boat pass close by the savage horde unmolested,
and steer out safely into the broad river.

The next moment the whole band of warriors was in motion. They ran
along the bank until they were opposite to the boats, then throwing by their
weapons and buffalo robes, plunged into the river, waded and swam off to
the boats and surrounded them in crowds, seeking to shake hands with
every individual on board; for the Indians have long since found this to be
the white man's token of amity, and they carried it to an extreme.

All uneasiness was now at an end. The Indians proved to be a war party of
Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, consisting of three hundred warriors,
and bound on a foray against the Sioux. Their war plans were abandoned
for the present, and they determined to return to the Arickara town, where
they hoped to obtain from the white men arms and ammunition that would
enable them to take the field with advantage over their enemies.

The boats now sought the first convenient place for encamping. The tents
were pitched; the warriors fixed their camp at about a hundred yards
distant; provisions were furnished from the boats sufficient for all parties;
CHAPTER XIX. 163

there was hearty though rude feasting in both camps, and in the evening the
red warriors entertained their white friends with dances and songs, that
lasted until after midnight.

On the following morning (July 3) the travellers re−embarked, and took a

temporary leave of their Indian friends, who intended to proceed
immediately for the Arickara town, where they expected to arrive in three
days, long before the boats could reach there. Mr. Hunt had not proceeded
far before the chief came galloping along the shore and made signs for a
parley. He said, his people could not go home satisfied unless they had
something to take with them to prove that they had met with the white men.
Mr. Hunt understood the drift of the speech, and made the chief a present of
a cask of powder, a bag of balls, and three dozen of knives, with which he
was highly pleased. While the chief was receiving these presents an Indian
came running along the shore, and announced that a boat, filled with white
men, was coming up the river. This was by no means agreeable tidings to
Mr. Hunt, who correctly concluded it to be the boat of Mr. Manuel Lisa;
and he was vexed to find that alert and adventurous trader upon his heels,
whom he hoped to have out−maneuvered, and left far behind. Lisa,
however, was too much experienced in the wiles of Indian trade to be lulled
by the promise of waiting for him at the Poncas village; on the contrary, he
had allowed himself no repose, and had strained every nerve to overtake the
rival party, and availing himself of the moonlight, had even sailed during a
considerable part of the night. In this he was partly prompted by his
apprehensions of the Sioux, having met a boat which had probably passed
Mr. Hunt's party in the night, and which had been fired into by these
savages.

On hearing that Lisa was so near at hand, Mr. Hunt perceived that it was
useless to attempt any longer to evade him; after proceeding a few miles
further, therefore, he came to a halt and waited for him to come up. In a
little while the barge of Lisa made its appearance. It came sweeping gently
up the river, manned by its twenty stout oarsmen, and armed by a swivel
mounted at the bow. The whole number on board amounted to twenty−six
men: among whom was Mr. Henry Breckenridge, then a young,
enterprising man; who was a mere passenger, tempted by notions of
CHAPTER XIX. 164

curiosity to accompany Mr. Lisa. He has since made himself known by

various writings, among which may be noted a narrative of this very
voyage.

The approach of Lisa, while it was regarded with uneasiness by Mr. Hunt,
roused the ire of M'Lellan; who, calling to mind old grievances, began to
look round for his rifle, as if he really intended to carry his threat into
execution and shoot him on the spot; and it was with some difficulty that
Mr. Hunt was enabled to restrain his ire, and prevent a scene of outraged
confusion.

The meeting between the two leaders, thus mutually distrustful, could not
be very cordial: and as to Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan, though they
refrained from any outbreak, yet they regarded in grim defiance their old
rival and underplotter. In truth a general distrust prevailed throughout the
party concerning Lisa and his intentions. They considered him artful and
slippery, and secretly anxious for the failure of their expedition. There
being now nothing more to be apprehended from the Sioux, they suspected
that Lisa would take advantage of his twenty−oared barge to leave them
and get first among the Arickaras. As he had traded with those people and
possessed great influence over them, it was feared he might make use of it
to impede the business of Mr. Hunt and his party. It was resolved,
therefore, to keep a sharp look− out upon his movements; and M'Lellan
swore that if he saw the least sign of treachery on his part, he would
instantly put his old threat into execution.

Notwithstanding these secret jealousies and heart−burnings, the two parties

maintained an outward appearance of civility, and for two days continued
forward in company with some degree of harmony. On the third day,
however, an explosion took place, and it was produced by no less a
personage than Pierre Dorion, the half−breed interpreter. It will be
recollected that this worthy had been obliged to steal a march from St.
Louis, to avoid being arrested for an old whiskey debt which he owed to the
Missouri Fur Company, and by which Mr. Lisa had hoped to prevent his
enlisting in Mr. Hunt's expedition. Dorion, since the arrival of Lisa, had
kept aloof and regarded him with a sullen and dogged aspect. On the fifth
CHAPTER XIX. 165

of July the two parties were brought to a halt by a heavy rain, and remained
encamped about a hundred yards apart. In the course of the day Lisa
undertook to tamper with the faith of Pierre Dorion, and, inviting him on
board of his boat, regaled him with his favorite whiskey. When he thought
him sufficiently mellowed, he proposed to him to quit the service of his
new employers and return to his old allegiance. Finding him not to be
moved by soft words, he called to mind his old debt to the company, and
threatened to carry him off by force, in payment of it. The mention of this
debt always stirred up the gall of Pierre Dorion, bringing with it the
remembrance of the whiskey extortion. A violent quarrel arose between
him and Lisa, and he left the boat in high dudgeon. His first step was to
repair to the tent of Mr. Hunt and reveal the attempt that had been made to
shake his faith. While he was yet talking Lisa entered the tent, under the
pretext of coming to borrow a towing line. High words instantly ensued
between him and Dorion, which ended by the half− breed's dealing him a
blow. A quarrel in the "Indian country", however, is not to be settled with
fisticuffs. Lisa immediately rushed to his boat for a weapon. Dorion
snatched up a pair of pistols belonging to Mr. Hunt, and placed himself in
battle array. The noise had roused the camp, and every one pressed to know
the cause. Lisa now reappeared upon the field with a knife stuck in his
girdle. Mr. Breckenridge, who had tried in vain to mollify his ire,
accompanied him to the scene of action. Pierre Dorion's pistols gave him
the advantage, and he maintained a most warlike attitude. In the meantime,
Crooks and M'Lellan had learnt the cause of the affray, and were each
eager to take the quarrel into their own hands. A scene of uproar and
hubbub ensued that defies description. M'Lellan would have brought his
rifle into play and settled all old and new grudges by a pull of the trigger,
had he not been restrained by Mr. Hunt. That gentleman acted as
moderator, endeavoring to prevent a general melee; in the midst of the
brawl, however, an expression was made use of by Lisa derogatory to his
own honor. In an instant the tranquil spirit of Mr. Hunt was in a flame. He
now became as eager for the fight as any one on the ground, and challenged
Lisa to settle the dispute on the spot with pistols. Lisa repaired to his boat
to arm himself for the deadly feud. He was followed by Messrs. Bradbury
and Breckenridge, who, novices in Indian life and the "chivalry" of the
frontier, had no relish for scenes of blood and brawl. By their earnest
CHAPTER XX. 166

mediation the quarrel was brought to a close without bloodshed; but the
two leaders of the rival camps separated in anger, and all personal
intercourse ceased between them.

CHAPTER XX.

Features of the Wilderness− Herds of Buffalo.− Antelopes− Their Varieties

and Habits.− John Day.− His Hunting Strategy− Interview with Three
Arickaras− Negotiations Between the Rival Parties − The Left−Handed and
the Big Man, two Arickara Chiefs.− Arickara Village− Its Inhabitants−
Ceremonials on Landing− A Council Lodge.− Grand Conference − Speech
of Lisa.− Negotiation for Horses. −Shrewd Suggestion of Gray Eyes, an
Arickara Chief − Encampment of the Trading Parties.

THE rival parties now coasted along the opposite sides of the river, within
sight of each other; the barges of Mr. Hunt always keeping some distance
in the advance, lest Lisa should push on and get first to the Arickara
village. The scenery and objects, as they proceeded, gave evidence that they
were advancing deeper and deeper into the domains of savage nature.
Boundless wastes kept extending to the eye, more and more animated by
herds of buffalo. Sometimes these unwieldy animals were seen moving in
long procession across the silent landscape; at other times they were
scattered about, singly or in groups, on the broad, enameled prairies and
green acclivities, some cropping the rich pasturage, others reclining amidst
the flowery herbage; the whole scene realizing in a manner the old
Scriptural descriptions of the vast pastoral countries of the Orient, with
"cattle upon a thousand hills."

At one place the shores seemed absolutely lined with buffaloes; many were
making their way across the stream, snorting, and blowing, and
floundering. Numbers, in spite of every effort, were borne by the rapid
current within shot of the boats, and several were killed. At another place a
number were descried on the beach of a small island, under the shade of the
trees, or standing in the water, like cattle, to avoid the flies and the heat of
the day.
CHAPTER XX. 167

Several of the best marksmen stationed themselves in the bow of a barge

which advanced slowly and silently, stemming the current with the aid of a
broad sail and a fair breeze. The buffaloes stood gazing quietly at the barge
as it approached, perfectly unconscious of their danger. The fattest of the
herd was selected by the hunters, who all fired together and brought down
their victim.

Besides the buffaloes they saw abundance of deer, and frequent gangs of
stately elks, together with light troops of sprightly antelopes, the fleetest
and most beautiful inhabitants of the prairies.

There are two kinds of antelopes in these regions, one nearly the size of the
common deer, the other not much larger than a goat. Their color is a light
gray, or rather dun, slightly spotted with white; and they have small horns
like those of the deer, which they never shed. Nothing can surpass the
delicate and elegant finish of their limbs, in which lightness, elasticity, and
strength are wonderfully combined. All the attitudes and movements of this
beautiful animal are graceful and picturesque; and it is altogether as fit a
subject for the fanciful uses of the poet as the oft−sung gazelle of the East.

Their habits are shy and capricious; they keep on the open plains, are quick
to take the alarm, and bound away with a fleetness that defies pursuit.
When thus skimming across a prairie in the autumn, their light gray or dun
color blends with the hue of the withered herbage, the swiftness of their
motion baffles the eye, and they almost seem unsubstantial forms, driven
like gossamer before the wind.

While they thus keep to the open plain and trust to their speed, they are
safe; but they have a prurient curiosity that sometimes betrays them to their
ruin. When they have scud for some distance and left their pursuer behind,
they will suddenly stop and turn to gaze at the object of their alarm. If the
pursuit is not followed up they will, after a time, yield to their inquisitive
hankering, and return to the place from whence they have been frightened.

John Day, the veteran hunter already mentioned, displayed his experience
and skill in entrapping one of these beautiful animals. Taking advantage of
CHAPTER XX. 168

its well known curiosity, he laid down flat among the grass, and putting his
handkerchief on the end of his ramrod, waved it gently in the air. This had
the effect of the fabled fascination of the rattlesnake. The antelope
approached timidly, pausing and reconnoitering with increased curiosity;
moving round the point of attraction in a circle, but still drawing nearer and
nearer, until being within range of the deadly rifle, he fell a victim to his
curiosity.

On the 10th of June, as the party were making brisk progress with a fine
breeze, they met a canoe with three Indians descending the river. They
came to a parley, and brought news from the Arickara village. The war
party, which had caused such alarm at the sand− bar, had reached the
village some days previously, announced the approach of a party of traders,
and displayed with great ostentation the presents they had received from
them. On further conversation with these three Indians, Mr. Hunt learnt the
real danger which he had run, when hemmed up within the sand−bar. The
Mandans who were of the war party, when they saw the boat so completely
entrapped and apparently within their power, had been eager for attacking
it, and securing so rich a prize. The Minatarees, also, were nothing loath,
feeling in some measure committed in hostility to the whites, in
consequence of their tribe having killed two white men above the fort of the
Missouri Fur Company. Fortunately, the Arickaras, who formed the
majority of the war party, proved true in their friendship to the whites, and
prevented any hostile act, otherwise a bloody affray, and perhaps a horrible
massacre might have ensued.

On the 11th of June, Mr. Hunt and his companions encamped near an island
about six miles below the Arickara village. Mr. Lisa encamped, as usual, at
no great distance; but the same sullen jealous reserve and non−intercourse
continued between them. Shortly after pitching the tents, Mr. Breckenridge
made his appearance as an ambassador from the rival camp. He came on
behalf of his companions, to arrange the manner of making their entrance
into the village and of receiving the chiefs; for everything of the kind is a
matter of grave ceremonial among the Indians.
CHAPTER XX. 169

The partners now expressed frankly their deep distrust of the intentions of
Mr. Lisa, and their apprehensions, that, out of the jealousy of trade, and
resentment of recent disputes, he might seek to instigate the Arickaras
against them. Mr. Breckenridge assured them that their suspicions were
entirely groundless, and pledged himself that nothing of the kind should
take place. He found it difficult, however, to remove their distrust; the
conference, therefore, ended without producing any cordial understanding;
and M'Lellan recurred to his old threat of shooting Lisa the instant he
discovered anything like treachery in his proceedings.

That night the rain fell in torrents, accompanied by thunder and lightning.
The camp was deluged, and the bedding and baggage drenched. All hands
embarked at an early hour, and set forward for the village. About nine
o'clock, when half way, they met a canoe, on board of which were two
Arickara dignitaries. One, a fine−looking man, much above the common
size, was hereditary chief of the village; he was called the Left−handed, on
account of a personal peculiarity. The other, a ferocious−looking savage,
was the war chief, or generalissimo; he was known by the name of the Big
Man, an appellation he well deserved from his size, for he was of a gigantic
frame. Both were of fairer complexion than is usual with savages.

They were accompanied by an interpreter; a French creole, one of those

haphazard wights of Gallic origin who abound upon our frontiers, living
among the Indians like one of their own race. He had been twenty years
among the Arickaras, had a squaw and troop of piebald children, and
officiated as interpreter to the chiefs. Through this worthy organ the two
dignitaries signified to Mr. Hunt their sovereign intention to oppose the
further progress of the expedition up the river unless a boat were left to
trade with them. Mr. Hunt, in reply, explained the object of his voyage, and
his intention of debarking at their village and proceeding thence by land;
and that he would willingly trade with them for a supply of horses for his
journey. With this explanation they were perfectly satisfied, and putting
about, steered for their village to make preparations for the reception of the
strangers.
CHAPTER XX. 170

The village of the Rikaras, Arickaras, or Ricarees, for the name is thus
variously written, is between the 46th and 47th parallels of north latitude,
and fourteen hundred and thirty miles above the mouth of the Missouri. The
party reached it about ten o'clock in the morning, but landed on the
opposite side of the river, where they spread out their baggage and effects
to dry. From hence they commanded an excellent view of the village. It was
divided into two portions, about eighty yards apart, being inhabited by two
distinct bands. The whole extended about three− quarters of a mile along
the river bank, and was composed of conical lodges, that looked like so
many small hillocks, being wooden frames intertwined with osier, and
covered with earth. The plain beyond the village swept up into hills of
considerable height, but the whole country was nearly destitute of trees.
While they were regarding the village, they beheld a singular fleet coming
down the river. It consisted of a number of canoes, each made of a single
buffalo hide stretched on sticks, so as to form a kind of circular trough.
Each one was navigated by a single squaw, who knelt in the bottom and
paddled; towing after her frail bark a bundle of floating wood intended for
firing. This kind of canoe is in frequent use among the Indians; the buffalo
hide being readily made up into a bundle and transported on horseback; it is
very serviceable in conveying baggage across the rivers.

The great number of horses grazing around the village, and scattered over
the neighboring hills and valleys, bespoke the equestrian habit of the
Arickaras, who are admirable horsemen. Indeed, in the number of his
horses consists the wealth of an Indian of the prairies; who resembles an
Arab in his passion for this noble animal, and in his adroitness in the
management of it.

After a time, the voice of the sovereign chief, "the Left− handed," was
heard across the river, announcing that the council lodge was preparing,
and inviting the white men to come over. The river was half a mile in
width, yet every word uttered by the chieftain was heard; this may be partly
attributed to the distinct manner in which every syllable of the compound
words in the Indian language is articulated and accented; but in truth, a
savage warrior might often rival Achilles himself for force of lungs. * (*
Bradbury, p. 110.)
CHAPTER XX. 171

Now came the delicate point of management − how the two rival parties
were to conduct their visit to the village with proper circumspection and
due decorum. Neither of the leaders had spoken to each other since their
quarrel. All communication had been by ambassadors. Seeing the jealousy
entertained of Lisa, Mr. Breckenridge, in his negotiation, had arranged that
a deputation from each party should cross the river at the same time, so that
neither would have the first access to the ear of the Arickaras.

The distrust of Lisa, however, had increased in proportion as they

approached the sphere of action; and M'Lellan, in particular, kept a vigilant
eye upon his motions, swearing to shoot him if he attempted to cross the
river first.

About two o'clock the large boat of Mr. Hunt was manned, and he stepped
on board, accompanied by Messrs. M'Kenzie and M'Lellan; Lisa at the
same time embarked in his barge; the two deputations amounted in all to
fourteen persons, and never was any movement of rival potentates
conducted with more wary exactness.

They landed amidst a rabble crowd, and were received on the bank by the
left−handed chief, who conducted them into the village with grave
courtesy; driving to the right and left the swarms of old squaws, imp−like
boys, and vagabond dogs, with which the place abounded. They wound
their way between the cabins, which looked like dirt−heaps huddled
together without any plan, and surrounded by old palisades; all filthy in the
extreme, and redolent of villainous smells.

At length they arrived at the council lodge. It was somewhat spacious, and
formed of four forked trunks of trees placed upright, supporting
cross−beams and a frame of poles interwoven with osiers, and the whole
covered with earth. A hole sunken in the center formed the fireplace, and
immediately above was a circular hole in the apex of the lodge, to let out
the smoke and let in the daylight. Around the lodge were recesses for
sleeping, like the berths on board ships, screened from view by curtains of
dressed skins. At the upper end of the lodge was a kind of hunting and
warlike trophy, consisting of two buffalo heads garishly painted,
CHAPTER XX. 172

surmounted by shields, bows, quivers of arrows, and other weapons.

On entering the lodge the chief pointed to mats or cushions which had been
placed around for the strangers, and on which they seated themselves, while
he placed himself on a kind of stool. An old man then came forward with
the pipe of peace or good− fellowship, lighted and handed it to the chief,
and then falling back, squatted himself near the door. The pipe was passed
from mouth to mouth, each one taking a whiff, which is equivalent to the
inviolable pledge of faith, of taking salt together among the ancient Britons.
The chief then made a sign to the old pipe− bearer, who seemed to fill,
likewise, the station of herald, seneschal, and public crier, for he ascended
to the top of the lodge to make proclamation. Here he took his post beside
the aperture for the emission of smoke and the admission of light; the chief
dictated from within what he was to proclaim, and he bawled it forth with a
force of lungs that resounded over all the village. In this way he summoned
the warriors and great men to council; every now and then reporting
progress to his chief through the hole in the roof.

In a little while the braves and sages began to enter one by one, as their
names were called or announced, emerging from under the buffalo robe
suspended over the entrance instead of a door, stalking across the lodge to
the skins placed on the floor, and crouching down on them in silence. In
this way twenty entered and took their seats, forming an assemblage worthy
of the pencil: for the Arickaras are a noble race of men, large and well
formed, and maintain a savage grandeur and gravity of demeanor in their
solemn ceremonials.

All being seated, the old seneschal prepared the pipe of ceremony or
council, and having lit it, handed it to the chief. He inhaled the sacred
smoke, gave a puff upward to the heaven, then downward to the earth, then
towards the east; after this it was as usual passed from mouth to mouth,
each holding it respectfully until his neighbor had taken several whiffs; and
now the grand council was considered as opened in due form.

The chief made an harangue welcoming the white men to his village, and
expressing his happiness in taking them by the hand as friends; but at the
CHAPTER XX. 173

same time complaining of the poverty of himself and his people; the usual
prelude among Indians to begging or hard bargaining.

Lisa rose to reply, and the eyes of Hunt and his companions were eagerly
turned upon him, those of M'Lellan glaring like a basilisk's. He began by
the usual expressions of friendship, and then proceeded to explain the
object of his own party. Those persons, however, said he, pointing to Mr.
Hunt and his companions, are of a different party, and are quite distinct in
their views; but, added he, though we are separate parties, we make but one
common cause when the safety of either is concerned. Any injury or insult
offered to them I shall consider as done to myself, and will resent it
accordingly. I trust, therefore, that you will treat them with the same
friendship that you have always manifested for me, doing everything in
your power to serve them and to help them on their way. The speech of
Lisa, delivered with an air of frankness and sincerity, agreeably surprised
and disappointed the rival party.

Mr. Hunt then spoke, declaring the object of his journey to the great Salt
Lake beyond the mountains, and that he should want horses for the
purpose, for which he was ready to trade, having brought with him plenty
of goods. Both he and Lisa concluded their speeches by making presents of
tobacco.

The left−handed chieftain in reply promised his friendship and aid to the
new comers, and welcomed them to his village. He added that they had not
the number of horses to spare that Mr. Hunt required, and expressed a
doubt whether they should be able to part with any. Upon this, another
chieftain, called Gray Eyes, made a speech, and declared that they could
readily supply Mr. Hunt with all the horses he might want, since, if they
had not enough in the village, they could easily steal more. This honest
expedient immediately removed the main difficulty; but the chief deferred
all trading for a day or two; until he should have time to consult with his
subordinate chiefs as to market rates; for the principal chief of a village, in
conjunction with his council, usually fixes the prices at which articles shall
be bought and sold, and to them the village must conform.
CHAPTER XXI. 174

The council now broke up. Mr. Hunt transferred his camp across the river
at a little distance below the village, and the left− handed chief placed some
of his warriors as a guard to prevent the intrusion of any of his people. The
camp was pitched on the river bank just above the boats. The tents, and the
men wrapped in their blankets and bivouacking on skins in the open air,
surrounded the baggage at night. Four sentinels also kept watch within
sight of each other outside of the camp until midnight, when they were
relieved by four others who mounted guard until daylight. Mr. Lisa
encamped near to Mr. Hunt, between him and the village.

The speech of Mr. Lisa in the council had produced a pacific effect in the
encampment. Though the sincerity of his friendship and good−will towards
the new company still remained matter of doubt, he was no longer
suspected of an intention to play false. The intercourse between the two
leaders was therefore resumed, and the affairs of both parties went on
harmoniously.

CHAPTER XXI.

An Indian Horse Fair.− Love of the Indians for Horses− Scenes in the
Arickara Village.−Indian Hospitality.− Duties of Indian Women. Game
Habits of the Men.−Their Indolence.−Love of Gossiping. − Rumors of
Lurking Enemies.− Scouts.− An Alarm.−A Sallying Forth. −Indian
Dogs.−Return of a Horse−Stealing Party.− An Indian Deputation.−Fresh
Alarms.−Return of a Successful War Party.−Dress of the Arickaras.−
Indian Toilet.− Triumphal Entry of the War Party. − Meetings of Relations
and Friends.−Indian Sensibility.− Meeting of a Wounded Warrior and His
Mother.− Festivities and Lamentations.

A TRADE now commenced with the Arickaras under the regulation and
supervision of their two chieftains. Lisa sent a part of his goods to the lodge
of the left−handed dignitary, and Mr. Hunt established his mart in the lodge
of the Big Man. The village soon presented the appearance of a busy fair;
and as horses were in demand, the purlieus and the adjacent plain were like
the vicinity of a Tartar encampment; horses were put through all their
CHAPTER XXI. 175

paces, and horsemen were careering about with that dexterity and grace for
which the Arickaras are noted. As soon as a horse was purchased, his tail
was cropped, a sure mode of distinguishing him from the horses of the
tribe; for the Indians disdain to practice this absurd, barbarous, and indecent
mutilation, invented by some mean and vulgar mind, insensible to the merit
and perfections of the animal. On the contrary, the Indian horses are
suffered to remain in every respect the superb and beautiful animals which
nature formed them.

The wealth of an Indian of the far west consists principally in his horses, of
which each chief and warrior possesses a great number, so that the plains
about an Indian village or encampment are covered with them. These form
objects of traffic, or objects of depredation, and in this way pass from tribe
to tribe over great tracts of country. The horses owned by the Arickaras are,
for the most part, of the wild stock of the prairies; some, however, had been
obtained from the Poncas, Pawnees, and other tribes to the southwest, who
had stolen them from the Spaniards in the course of horse−stealing
expeditions into Mexican territories. These were to be known by being
branded; a Spanish mode of marking horses not practiced by the Indians.

As the Arickaras were meditating another expedition against their enemies

the Sioux, the articles of traffic most in demand were guns, tomahawks,
scalping−knives, powder, ball, and other munitions of war. The price of a
horse, as regulated by the chiefs, was commonly ten dollars' worth of goods
at first cost. To supply the demand thus suddenly created, parties of young
men and braves had sallied forth on expeditions to steal horses; a species of
service among the Indians which takes precedence of hunting, and is
considered a department of honorable warfare.

While the leaders of the expedition were actively engaged in preparing for
the approaching journey, those who had accompanied it for curiosity or
amusement, found ample matter for observation in the village and its
inhabitants. Wherever they went they were kindly entertained. If they
entered a lodge, the buffalo robe was spread before the fire for them to sit
down; the pipe was brought, and while the master of the lodge conversed
with his guests, the squaw put the earthen vessel over the fire well filled
CHAPTER XXI. 176

with dried buffalo−meat and pounded corn; for the Indian in his native
state, before he has mingled much with white men, and acquired their
sordid habits, has the hospitality of the Arab: never does a stranger enter his
door without having food placed before him; and never is the food thus
furnished made a matter of traffic.

The life of an Indian when at home in his village is a life of indolence and
amusement. To the woman is consigned the labors of the household and the
field; she arranges the lodge; brings wood for the fire; cooks; jerks venison
and buffalo meat; dresses the skins of the animals killed in the chase;
cultivates the little patch of maize, pumpkins, and pulse, which furnishes a
great part of their provisions. Their time for repose and recreation is at
sunset, when the labors of the day being ended, they gather together to
amuse themselves with petty games, or to hold gossiping convocations on
the tops of their lodges.

As to the Indian, he is a game animal, not to be degraded by useful or

menial toil. It is enough that he exposes himself to the hardships of the
chase and the perils of war; that he brings home food for his family, and
watches and fights for its protection. Everything else is beneath his
attention. When at home, he attends only to his weapons and his horses,
preparing the means of future exploit. Or he engages with his comrades in
games of dexterity, agility and strength; or in gambling games in which
everything is put at hazard with a recklessness seldom witnessed in
civilized life.

A great part of the idle leisure of the Indians when at home is passed in
groups, squatted together on the bank of a river, on the top of a mound on
the prairie, or on the roof of one of their earth−covered lodges, talking over
the news of the day, the affairs of the tribe, the events and exploits of their
last hunting or fighting expedition; or listening to the stories of old times
told by some veteran chronicler; resembling a group of our village
quidnuncs and politicians, listening to the prosings of some superannuated
oracle, or discussing the contents of an ancient newspaper.
CHAPTER XXI. 177

As to the Indian women, they are far from complaining of their lot. On the
contrary, they would despise their husbands could they stoop to any menial
office, and would think it conveyed an imputation upon their own conduct.
It is the worst insult one virago can cast upon another in a moment of
altercation. "Infamous woman!" will she cry, "I have seen your husband
carrying wood into his lodge to make the fire. Where was his squaw, that
he should be obliged to make a woman of himself! "

Mr. Hunt and his fellow−travellers had not been many days at the Arickara
village, when rumors began to circulate that the Sioux had followed them
up, and that a war party, four or five hundred in number, were lurking
somewhere in the neighborhood. These rumors produced much
embarrassment in the camp. The white hunters were deterred from
venturing forth in quest of game, neither did the leaders think it proper to
expose them to such a risk. The Arickaras, too, who had suffered greatly in
their wars with this cruel and ferocious tribe, were roused to increased
vigilance, and stationed mounted scouts upon the neighboring hills. This,
however, is a general precaution among the tribes of the prairies. Those
immense plains present a horizon like the ocean, so that any object of
importance can be descried afar, and information communicated to a great
distance. The scouts are stationed on the hills, therefore, to look out both
for game and for enemies, and are, in a manner, living telegraphs
conveying their intelligence by concerted signs. If they wish to give notice
of a herd of buffalo in the plain beyond, they gallop backwards and
forwards abreast, on the summit of the hill. If they perceive an enemy at
hand, they gallop to and fro, crossing each other; at sight of which the
whole village flies to arms.

Such an alarm was given in the afternoon of the 15th. Four scouts were
seen crossing and recrossing each other at full gallop, on the summit of a
hill about two miles distant down the river. The cry was up that the Sioux
were coming. In an instant the village was in an uproar. Men, women, and
children were all brawling and shouting; dogs barking, yelping, and
howling. Some of the warriors ran for the horses to gather and drive them
in from the prairie, some for their weapons. As fast as they could arm and
equip they sallied forth; some on horseback, some on foot. Some hastily
CHAPTER XXI. 178

arrayed in their war dress, with coronets of fluttering feathers, and their
bodies smeared with paint; others naked and only furnished with the
weapons they had snatched up. The women and children gathered on the
tops of the lodges and heightened the confusion of the scene by their
vociferation. Old men who could no longer bear arms took similar stations,
and harangued the warriors as they passed, exhorting them to valorous
deeds. Some of the veterans took arms themselves, and sallied forth with
tottering steps. In this way, the savage chivalry of the village to the number
of five hundred, poured forth, helter−skelter, riding and running, with
hideous yells and war−whoops, like so many bedlamites or demoniacs let
loose.

After a while the tide of war rolled back, but with far less uproar. Either it
had been a false alarm, or the enemy had retreated on finding themselves
discovered, and quiet was restored to the village. The white hunters
continuing to be fearful of ranging this dangerous neighborhood, fresh
provisions began to be scarce in the camp. As a substitute, therefore, for
venison and buffalo meat, the travellers had to purchase a number of dogs
to be shot and cooked for the supply of the camp. Fortunately, however
chary the Indians might be of their horses, they were liberal of their dogs.
In fact, these animals swarm about an Indian village as they do about a
Turkish town. Not a family but has two or three dozen belonging to it, of all
sizes and colors; some of a superior breed are used for hunting; others, to
draw the sledge, while others, of a mongrel breed, and idle vagabond
nature, are fattened for food. They are supposed to be descendant from the
wolf, and retain something of his savage but cowardly temper, howling
rather than barking; showing their teeth and snarling on the slightest
provocation, but sneaking away on the least attack.

The excitement of the village continued from day to day. On the day
following the alarm just mentioned, several parties arrived from different
directions, and were met and conducted by some of the braves to the
council lodge, where they reported the events and success of their
expeditions, whether of war or hunting; which news was afterwards
promulgated throughout the village, by certain old men who acted as
heralds or town criers. Among the parties which arrived was one that had
CHAPTER XXI. 179

been among the Snake nation stealing horses, and returned crowned with
success. As they passed in triumph through the village they were cheered
by the men, women, and children, collected as usual on the tops of the
lodges, and were exhorted by the Nesters of the village to be generous in
their dealings with the white men.

The evening was spent in feasting and rejoicing among the relations of the
successful warriors; but the sounds of grief and wailing were heard from
the hills adjacent to the village −the lamentations of women who had lost
some relative in the foray.

An Indian village is subject to continual agitations and excitements. The

next day arrived a deputation of braves from the Cheyenne or Shienne
nation; a broken tribe, cut up, like the Arickaras, by wars with the Sioux,
and driven to take refuge among the Black Hills, near the sources of the
Cheyenne River, from which they derive their name. One of these deputies
was magnificently arrayed in a buffalo robe, on which various figures were
fancifully embroidered with split quills dyed red and yellow; and the whole
was fringed with the slender hoofs of young fawns, that rattled as he
walked.

The arrival of this deputation was the signal for another of those
ceremonials which occupy so much of Indian life; for no being is more
courtly and punctilious, and more observing of etiquette and formality than
an American savage.

The object of the deputation was to give notice of an intended visit of the
Shienne (or Cheyenne) tribe to the Arickara village in the course of fifteen
days. To this visit Mr. Hunt looked forward to procure additional horses for
his journey; all his bargaining being ineffectual in obtaining a sufficient
supply from the Arickaras. Indeed, nothing could prevail upon the latter to
part with their prime horses, which had been trained to buffalo hunting.

As Mr. Hunt would have to abandon his boats at this place, Mr. Lisa now
offered to purchase them, and such of his merchandise as was superfluous,
and to pay him in horses to be obtained at a fort belonging to the Missouri
CHAPTER XXI. 180

Fur Company, situated at the Mandan villages, about a hundred and fifty
miles further up the river. A bargain was promptly made, and Mr. Lisa and
Mr. Crooks, with several companions, set out for the fort to procure the
horses. They returned, after upwards of a fortnight's absence, bringing with
them the stipulated number of horses. Still the cavalry was not sufficiently
numerous to convey the party and baggage and merchandise, and a few
days more were required to complete the arrangements for the journey.

On the 9th of July, just before daybreak, a great noise and vociferation was
heard in the village. This being the usual Indian hour of attack and surprise,
and the Sioux being known to be in the neighborhood, the camp was
instantly on the alert. As the day broke Indians were descried in
considerable number on the bluffs, three or four miles down the river. The
noise and agitation in the village continued. The tops of the lodges were
crowded with the inhabitants, all earnestly looking towards the hills, and
keeping up a vehement chattering. Presently an Indian warrior galloped
past the camp towards the village, and in a little while the legions began to
pour forth.

The truth of the matter was now ascertained. The Indians upon the distant
hills were three hundred Arickara braves, returning home from a foray.
They had met the war party of Sioux who had been so long hovering about
the neighborhood, had fought them the day before, killed several, and
defeated the rest with the loss of but two or three of their own men and
about a dozen wounded; and they were now halting at a distance until their
comrades in the village should come forth to meet them, and swell the
parade of their triumphal entry. The warrior who had galloped past the
camp was the leader of the party hastening home to give tidings of his
victory.

Preparations were now made for this great martial ceremony. All the finery
and equipments of the warriors were sent forth to them, that they might
appear to the greatest advantage. Those, too, who had remained at home,
tasked their wardrobes and toilets to do honor to the procession.
CHAPTER XXI. 181

The Arickaras generally go naked, but, like all savages, they have their gala
dress, of which they are not a little vain. This usually consists of a gray
surcoat and leggins of the dressed skin of the antelope, resembling chamois
leather, and embroidered with porcupine quills brilliantly dyed. A buffalo
robe is thrown over the right shoulder, and across the left is slung a quiver
of arrows. They wear gay coronets of plumes, particularly those of the
swan; but the feathers of the black eagle are considered the most worthy,
being a sacred bird among the Indian warriors.

He who has killed an enemy in his own land, is entitled to drag at his heels
a fox−skin attached to each moccasin; and he who has slain a grizzly bear,
wears a necklace of his claws, the most glorious trophy that a hunter can
exhibit.

An Indian toilet is an operation of some toil and trouble; the warrior often
has to paint himself from head to foot, and is extremely capricious and
difficult to please, as to the hideous distribution of streaks and colors. A
great part of the morning, therefore, passed away before there were any
signs of the distant pageant. In the meantime a profound stillness reigned
over the village. Most of the inhabitants had gone forth; others remained in
mute expectation. All sports and occupations were suspended, excepting
that in the lodges the painstaking squaws were silently busied in preparing
the repasts for the warriors.

It was near noon that a mingled sound of voices and rude music, faintly
heard from a distance, gave notice that the procession was on the march.
The old men and such of the squaws as could leave their employments
hastened forth to meet it. In a little while it emerged from behind a hill, and
had a wild and picturesque appearance as it came moving over the summit
in measured step, and to the cadence of songs and savage instruments; the
warlike standards and trophies flaunting aloft, and the feathers, and paint,
and silver ornaments of the warriors glaring and glittering in the sunshine.

The pageant had really something chivalrous in its arrangement. The

Arickaras are divided into several bands, each bearing the name of some
animal or bird, as the buffalo, the bear, the dog, the pheasant. The present
CHAPTER XXI. 182

party consisted of four of these bands, one of which was the dog, the most
esteemed in war, being composed of young men under thirty, and noted for
prowess. It is engaged in the most desperate occasions. The bands marched
in separate bodies under their several leaders. The warriors on foot came
first, in platoons of ten or twelve abreast; then the horsemen. Each band
bore as an ensign a spear or bow decorated with beads, porcupine quills,
and painted feathers. Each bore its trophies of scalps, elevated on poles,
their long black locks streaming in the wind. Each was accompanied by its
rude music and minstrelsy . In this way the procession extended nearly a
quarter of a mile. The warriors were variously armed, some few with guns,
others with bows and arrows, and war clubs; all had shields of buffalo hide,
a kind of defense generally used by the Indians of the open prairies, who
have not the covert of trees and forests to protect them. They were painted
in the most savage style. Some had the stamp of a red hand across their
mouths, a sign that they had drunk the life−blood of a foe!

As they drew near to the village the old men and the women began to meet
them, and now a scene ensued that proved the fallacy of the old fable of
Indian apathy and stoicism. Parents and children, husbands and wives,
brothers and sisters met with the most rapturous expressions of joy; while
wailings and lamentations were heard from the relatives of the killed and
wounded. The procession, however, continued on with slow and measured
step, in cadence to the solemn chant, and the warriors maintained their
fixed and stern demeanor.

Between two of the principal chiefs rode a young warrior who had
distinguished himself in the battle. He was severely wounded, so as with
difficulty to keep on his horse; but he preserved a serene and steadfast
countenance, as if perfectly unharmed. His mother had heard of his
condition. She broke through the throng, and rushing up, threw her arms
around him and wept aloud. He kept up the spirit and demeanor of a
warrior to the last, but expired shortly after he had reached his home.

The village was now a scene of the utmost festivity and triumph. The
banners, and trophies, and scalps, and painted shields were elevated on
poles near the lodges. There were warfeasts, and scalp−dances, with
CHAPTER XXII. 183

warlike songs and savage music; all the inhabitants were arrayed in their
festal dresses; while the old heralds went round from lodge to lodge,
promulgating with loud voices the events of the battle and the exploits of
the various warriors.

Such was the boisterous revelry of the village; but sounds of another kind
were heard on the surrounding hills; piteous wailings of the women, who
had retired thither to mourn in darkness and solitude for those who had
fallen in battle. There the poor mother of the youthful warrior who had
returned home in triumph but to die, gave full vent to the anguish of a
mother's heart. How much does this custom among the Indian woman of
repairing to the hilltops in the night, and pouring forth their wailings for the
dead, call to mind the beautiful and affecting passage of Scripture, "In
Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great
mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted,
because they are not. "

CHAPTER XXII.

Wilderness of the Far West.− Great American Desert− Parched Seasons.

−Black Hills.− Rocky Mountains.− Wandering and Predatory Hordes.
−Speculations on What May Be the Future Population.− Apprehended
Dangers.−A Plot to Desert.−Rose the Interpreter.− His Sinister Character−
Departure From the Arickara Village.

WHILE Mr. Hunt was diligently preparing for his arduous journey, some of
his men began to lose heart at the perilous prospect before them; but before
we accuse them of want of spirit, it is proper to consider the nature of the
wilderness into which they were about to adventure. It was a region almost
as vast and trackless as the ocean, and, at the time of which we treat, but
little known, excepting through the vague accounts of Indian hunters. A
part of their route would lay across an immense tract, stretching north and
south for hundreds of miles along the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and
drained by the tributary streams of the Missouri and the Mississippi. This
region, which resembles one of the immeasurable steppes of Asia, has not
CHAPTER XXII. 184

inaptly been termed "the great American desert." It spreads forth into
undulating and treeless plains, and desolate sandy wastes wearisome to the
eye from their extent and monotony, and which are supposed by geologists
to have formed the ancient floor of the ocean, countless ages since, when its
primeval waves beat against the granite bases of the Rocky Mountains.

It is a land where no man permanently abides; for, in certain seasons of the

year there is no food either for the hunter or his steed. The herbage is
parched and withered; the brooks and streams are dried up; the buffalo, the
elk and the deer have wandered to distant parts, keeping within the verge of
expiring verdure, and leaving behind them a vast uninhabited solitude,
seamed by ravines, the beds of former torrents, but now serving only to
tantalize and increase the thirst of the traveller.

Occasionally the monotony of this vast wilderness is interrupted by

mountainous belts of sand and limestone, broken into confused masses;
with precipitous cliffs and yawning ravines, looking like the ruins of a
world; or is traversed by lofty and barren ridges of rock, almost impassable,
like those denominated the Black Hills. Beyond these rise the stern barriers
of the Rocky Mountains, the limits, as it were, of the Atlantic world. The
rugged defiles and deep valleys of this vast chain form sheltering places for
restless and ferocious bands of savages, many of them the remnants of
tribes, once inhabitants of the prairies, but broken up by war and violence,
and who carry into their mountain haunts the fierce passions and reckless
habits of desperadoes.

Such is the nature of this immense wilderness of the far West; which
apparently defies cultivation, and the habitation of civilized life. Some
portions of it along the rivers may partially be subdued by agriculture,
others may form vast pastoral tracts, like those of the East; but it is to be
feared that a great part of it will form a lawless interval between the abodes
of civilized man, like the wastes of the ocean or the deserts of Arabia; and,
like them, be subject to the depredations of the marauder. Here may spring
up new and mongrel races, like new formations in geology, the
amalgamation of the "debris" and "abrasions" of former races, civilized and
savage; the remains of broken and almost extinguished tribes; the
CHAPTER XXII. 185

descendants of wandering hunters and trappers; of fugitives from the

Spanish and American frontiers; of adventurers and desperadoes of every
class and country, yearly ejected from the bosom of society into the
wilderness. We are contributing incessantly to swell this singular and
heterogeneous cloud of wild population that is to hang about our frontier,
by the transfer of whole tribes from the east of the Mississippi to the great
wastes of the far West. Many of these bear with them the smart of real or
fancied injuries; many consider themselves expatriated beings, wrongfully
exiled from their hereditary homes, and the sepulchres of their fathers, and
cherish a deep and abiding animosity against the race that has dispossessed
them. Some may gradually become pastoral hordes, like those rude and
migratory people, half shepherd, half warrior, who, with their flocks and
herds, roam the plains of upper Asia; but others, it is to be apprehended,
will become predatory bands, mounted on the fleet steeds of the prairies,
with the open plains for their marauding grounds, and the mountains for
their retreats and lurking−places. Here they may resemble those great
hordes of the North, "Gog and Magog with their bands," that haunted the
gloomy imaginations of the prophets. "A great company and a mighty host,
all riding upon horses, and warring upon those nations which were at rest,
and dwelt peaceably, and had gotten cattle and goods."

The Spaniards changed the whole character and habits of the Indians when
they brought the horse among them. In Chili, Tucuman, and other parts, it
has converted them, we are told, into Tartar−like tribes, and enabled them
to keep the Spaniards out of their country, and even to make it dangerous
for them to venture far from their towns and settlements. Are we not in
danger of producing some such state of things in the boundless regions of
the far West? That these are not mere fanciful and extravagant suggestions
we have sufficient proofs in the dangers already experienced by the traders
to the Spanish mart of Santa Fe, and to the distant posts of the fur
companies. These are obliged to proceed in armed caravans, and are subject
to murderous attacks from bands of Pawnees, Camanches, and Blackfeet,
that come scouring upon them in their weary march across the plains, or lie
in wait for them among the passes of the mountains.
CHAPTER XXII. 186

We are wandering, however, into excursive speculations, when our

intention was merely to give an idea of the nature of the wilderness which
Mr. Hunt was about to traverse; and which at that time was far less known
than at present; though it still remains in a great measure an unknown land.
We cannot be surprised, therefore, that some of the resolute of his party
should feel dismay at the thoughts of adventuring into this perilous
wilderness under the uncertain guidance of three hunters, who had merely
passed once through the country and might have forgotten the landmarks.
Their apprehensions were aggravated by some of Lisa's followers, who, not
being engaged in the expedition, took a mischievous pleasure in
exaggerating its dangers. They painted in strong colors, to the poor
Canadian voyageurs, the risk they would run of perishing with hunger and
thirst; of being cut off by war−parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains;
of having their horses stolen by the Upsarokas or Crows, who infested the
skirts of the Rocky Mountains; or of being butchered by the Blackfeet, who
lurked among the defiles. In a word, there was little chance of their getting
alive across the mountains; and even if they did, those three guides knew
nothing of the howling wilderness that lay beyond.

The apprehensions thus awakened in the minds of some of the men came
well−nigh proving detrimental to the expedition. Some of them determined
to desert, and to make their way back to St. Louis. They accordingly
purloined several weapons and a barrel of gunpowder, as ammunition for
their enterprise, and buried them in the river bank, intending to seize one of
the boats, and make off in the night. Fortunately their plot was overheard
by John Day, the Kentuckian, and communicated to the partners, who took
quiet and effectual means to frustrate it.

The dangers to be apprehended from the Crow Indians had not been
overrated by the camp gossips. These savages, through whose mountain
haunts the party would have to pass, were noted for daring and excursive
habits, and great dexterity in horse stealing. Mr. Hunt, therefore, considered
himself fortunate in having met with a man who might be of great use to
him in any intercourse he might have with the tribe. This was a wandering
individual named Edward Rose, whom he had picked up somewhere on the
Missouri − one of those anomalous beings found on the frontier, who seem
CHAPTER XXIII. 187

to have neither kin nor country. He had lived some time among the Crows,
so as to become acquainted with their language and customs; and was,
withal, a dogged, sullen, silent fellow, with a sinister aspect, and more of
the savage than the civilized man in his appearance. He was engaged to
serve in general as a hunter, but as guide and interpreter when they should
reach the country of the Crows.

On the 18th of July, Mr. Hunt took up his line of march by land from the
Arickara village, leaving Mr. Lisa and Mr. Nuttall there, where they
intended to await the expected arrival of Mr. Henry from the Rocky
Mountains. As to Messrs. Bradbury and Breckenridge, they had departed
some days previously, on a voyage down the river to St. Louis, with a
detachment from Mr. Lisa's party. With all his exertions, Mr. Hunt had
been unable to obtain a sufficient number of horses for the accommodation
of all his people. His cavalcade consisted of eighty−two horses, most of
them heavily laden with Indian goods, beaver traps, ammunition, Indian
corn, corn meal and other necessaries. Each of the partners was mounted,
and a horse was allotted to the interpreter, Pierre Dorion, for the
transportation of his luggage and his two children. His squaw, for the most
part of the time, trudged on foot, like the residue of the party; nor did any
of the men show more patience and fortitude than this resolute woman in
enduring fatigue and hardship.

The veteran trappers and voyageurs of Lisa's party shook their heads as
their comrades set out, and took leave of them as of doomed men; and even
Lisa himself gave it as his opinion, after the travellers had departed, they
would never reach the shores of the Pacific, but would either perish with
hunger in the wilderness, or be cut off by the savages.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Summer Weather of the Prairies.− Purity of the Atmosphere− Canadians on

the March.− Sickness in the Camp.− Big River.− Vulgar Nomenclature.−
Suggestions About the Original Indian Names.− Camp of Cheyennes.−
Trade for Horses.− Character of the Cheyennes.− Their Horsemanship.−
CHAPTER XXIII. 188

Historical Anecdotes of the Tribe.

THE course taken by Mr. Hunt was at first to the northwest, but soon
turned and kept generally to the southwest, to avoid the country infested by
the Blackfeet. His route took him across some of the tributary streams of
the Missouri, and over immense prairies, bounded only by the horizon, and
destitute of trees. It was now the height of summer, and these naked plains
would be intolerable to the traveller were it not for the breezes which swept
over them during the fervor of the day, bringing with them tempering airs
from the distant mountains. To the prevalence of these breezes, and to the
want of all leafy covert, may we also attribute the freedom from those flies
and other insects so tormenting to man and beast during the summer
months, in the lower plains, which are bordered and interspersed with
woodland.

The monotony of these immense landscapes, also, would be as wearisome

as that of the ocean, were it not relieved in some degree by the purity and
elasticity of the atmosphere, and the beauty of the heavens. The sky has that
delicious blue for which the sky of Italy is renowned; the sun shines with a
splendor unobscured by any cloud or vapor, and a starlight night on the
prairies is glorious. This purity and elasticity of atmosphere increases as the
traveller approaches the mountains and gradually rises into more elevated
prairies.

On the second day of the journey, Mr. Hunt arranged the party into small
and convenient messes, distributing among them the camp kettles. The
encampments at night were as before; some sleeping under tents, and others
bivouacking in the open air. The Canadians proved as patient of toll and
hardship on the land as on the water; indeed, nothing could surpass the
patience and good−humor of these men upon the march. They were the
cheerful drudges of the party, loading and unloading the horses, pitching
the tents, making the fires, cooking; in short, performing all those
household and menial offices which the Indians usually assign to the
squaws; and, like the squaws, they left all the hunting and fighting to
others. A Canadian has but little affection for the exercise of the rifle.
CHAPTER XXIII. 189

The progress of the party was but slow for the first few days. Some of the
men were indisposed; Mr. Crooks, especially, was so unwell that he could
not keep on his horse. A rude kind of litter was, therefore, prepared for him,
consisting of two long poles, fixed, one on each side of two horses, with a
matting between them, on which he reclined at full length, and was
protected from the sun by a canopy of boughs.

On the evening of the 23d (July) they encamped on the banks of what they
term Big River; and here we cannot but pause to lament the stupid,
commonplace, and often ribald names entailed upon the rivers and other
features of the great West, by traders and settlers. As the aboriginal tribes
of these magnificent regions are yet in existence, the Indian names might
easily be recovered; which, besides being in general more sonorous and
musical, would remain mementoes of the primitive lords of the soil, of
whom in a little while scarce any traces will be left. Indeed, it is to be
wished that the whole of our country could be rescued, as much as possible,
from the wretched nomenclature inflicted upon it, by ignorant and vulgar
minds; and thismight be done, in a great degree, by restoring the Indian
names, wherever significant and euphonious. As there appears to be a spirit
of research abroad in respect to our aboriginal antiquities, we would
suggest, as a worthy object of enterprise, a map, or maps, of every part of
our country, giving the Indian names wherever they could be ascertained.
Whoever achieves such an object worthily, will leave a monument to his
own reputation.

To return from this digression. As the travellers were now in a country

abounding with buffalo, they remained for several days encamped upon the
banks of Big River, to obtain a supply of provisions, and to give the
invalids time to recruit.

On the second day of their sojourn, as Ben Jones, John Day, and others of
the hunters were in pursuit of game, they came upon an Indian camp on the
open prairie, near to a small stream which ran through a ravine. The tents or
lodges were of dressed buffalo skins, sewn together and stretched on
tapering pine poles, joined at top, but radiating at bottom, so as to form a
circle capable of admitting fifty persons. Numbers of horses were grazing
CHAPTER XXIII. 190

in the neighborhood of the camp, or straying at large in the prairie; a sight

most acceptable to the hunters. After reconnoitering the camp for some
time, they ascertained it to belong to a band of Cheyenne Indians, the same
that had sent a deputation to the Arickaras. They received the hunters in the
most friendly manner; invited them to their lodges, which were more
cleanly than Indian lodges are prone to be, and set food before them with
true uncivilized hospitality. Several of them accompanied the hunters back
to the camp, when a trade was immediately opened. The Cheyennes were
astonished and delighted to find a convoy of goods and trinkets thus
brought into the very heart of the prairie; while Mr. Hunt and his
companions were overjoyed to have an opportunity of obtaining a further
supply of horses from these equestrian savages.

During a fortnight that the travellers lingered at this place, their

encampment was continually thronged by the Cheyennes. They were a
civil, well−behaved people, cleanly in their persons, and decorous in their
habits. The men were tall, straight and vigorous, with aquiline noses, and
high cheek bones. Some were almost as naked as ancient statues, and might
have stood as models for a statuary; others had leggins and moccasins of
deer skin, and buffalo robes, which they threw gracefully over their
shoulders. In a little while, however, they began to appear in more gorgeous
array, tricked out in the finery obtained from the white men; bright cloths,
brass rings, beads of various colors; and happy was he who could render
himself hideous with vermilion.

The travellers had frequent occasions to admire the skill and grace with
which these Indians managed their horses. Some of them made a striking
display when mounted; themselves and their steeds decorated in gala style;
for the Indians often bestow more finery upon their horses than upon
themselves. Some would hang around the necks, or rather on the breasts of
their horses, the most precious ornaments they had obtained from the white
men; others interwove feathers in their manes and tails. The Indian horses,
too, appear to have an attachment to their wild riders, and indeed, it is said
that the horses of the prairies readily distinguish an Indian from a white
man by the smell, and give a preference to the former. Yet the Indians, in
general, are hard riders, and, however they may value their horses, treat
CHAPTER XXIII. 191

them with great roughness and neglect. Occasionally the Cheyennes joined
the white hunters in pursuit of the elk and buffalo; and when in the ardor of
the chase, spared neither themselves nor their steeds, scouring the prairies
at full speed, and plunging down precipices and frightful ravines that
threatened the necks of both horse and horseman. The Indian steed, well
trained to the chase, seems as mad as the rider, and pursues the game as
eagerly as if it were his natural prey, on the flesh of which he was to
banquet.

The history of the Cheyennes is that of many of those wandering tribes of

the prairies. They were the remnant of a once powerful people called the
Shaways, inhabiting a branch of the Red River which flows into Lake
Winnipeg. Every Indian tribe has some rival tribe with which it wages
implacable hostility. The deadly enemies of the Shaways were the Sioux,
who, after a long course of warfare, proved too powerful for them, and
drove them across the Missouri. They again took root near the Warricanne
Creek, and established themselves there in a fortified village.

The Sioux still followed with deadly animosity ; dislodged them from their
village, and compelled them to take refuge in the Black Hills, near the
upper waters of the Sheyenne or Cheyenne River. Here they lost even their
name, and became known among the French colonists by that of the river
they frequented.

The heart of the tribe was now broken; its numbers were greatly thinned by
their harassing wars. They no longer attempted to establish themselves in
any permanent abode that might be an object of attack to their cruel foes.
They gave up the cultivation of the fruits of the earth, and became a
wandering tribe, subsisting by the chase, and following the buffalo in its
migrations.

Their only possessions were horses, which they caught on the prairies, or
reared, or captured on predatory incursions into the Mexican territories, as
has already been mentioned. With some of these they repaired once a year
to the Arickara villages, exchanged them for corn, beans, pumpkins, and
articles of European merchandise, and then returned into the heart of the
CHAPTER XXIV. 192

prairies.

Such are the fluctuating fortunes of these savage nations. War, famine,
pestilence, together or singly, bring down their strength and thin their
numbers. Whole tribes are rooted up from their native places, wander for a
time about these immense regions, become amalgamated with other tribes,
or disappear from the face of the earth. There appears to be a tendency to
extinction among all the savage nations; and this tendency would seem to
have been in operation among the aboriginals of this country long before
the advent of the white men, if we may judge from the traces and traditions
of ancient populousness in regions which were silent and deserted at the
time of the discovery; and from the mysterious and perplexing vestiges of
unknown races, predecessors of those found in actual possession, and who
must long since have become gradually extinguished or been destroyed.
The whole history of the aboriginal population of this country, however, is
an enigma, and a grand one − will it ever be solved?

CHAPTER XXIV.

New Distribution of Horses− Secret Information of Treason in the Camp.−

Rose the Interpreter− His Perfidious Character− His Plots. −Anecdotes of
the Crow Indians.− Notorious Horse Stealers.− Some Account of Rose.− A
Desperado of the Frontier.

0N the sixth of August the travellers bade farewell to the friendly band of
Cheyennes, and resumed their journey. As they had obtained thirty−six
additional horses by their recent traffic, Mr. Hunt made a new arrangement.
The baggage was made up in smaller loads. A horse was allotted to each of
the six prime hunters, and others were distributed among the voyageurs, a
horse for every two, so that they could ride and walk alternately. Mr.
Crooks being still too feeble to mount the saddle, was carried on a litter.

Their march this day lay among singular hills and knolls of an indurated red
earth, resembling brick, about the bases of which were scattered pumice
stones and cinders, the whole bearing traces of the action of fire. In the
CHAPTER XXIV. 193

evening they encamped on a branch of Big River.

They were now out of the tract of country infested by the Sioux, and had
advanced such a distance into the interior that Mr. Hunt no longer felt
apprehensive of the desertion of any of his men. He was doomed, however,
to experience new cause of anxiety. As he was seated in his tent after
nightfall, one of the men came to him privately, and informed him that
there was mischief brewing in the camp. Edward Rose, the interpreter,
whose sinister looks we have already mentioned, was denounced by this
secret informer as a designing, treacherous scoundrel, who was tampering
with the fidelity of certain of the men, and instigating them to a flagrant
piece of treason. In the course of a few days they would arrive at the
mountainous district infested by the Upsarokas or Crows, the tribe among
which Rose was to officiate as interpreter. His plan was that several of the
men should join with him, when in that neighborhood, in carrying off a
number of the horses with their packages of goods, and deserting to those
savages. He assured them of good treatment among the Crows, the
principal chiefs and warriors of whom he knew; they would soon become
great men among them, and have the finest women, and the daughters of
the chiefs for wives; and the horses and goods they carried off would make
them rich for life.

The intelligence of this treachery on the part of Rose gave much disquiet to
Mr. Hunt, for he knew not how far it might be effective among his men. He
had already had proofs that several of them were disaffected to the
enterprise, and loath to cross the mountains. He knew also that savage life
had charms for many of them, especially the Canadians, who were prone to
intermarry and domesticate themselves among the Indians.

And here a word or two concerning the Crows may be of service to the
reader, as they will figure occasionally in the succeeding narration.

The tribe consists of four bands, which have their nestling− places in
fertile, well−wooded valleys, lying among the Rocky Mountains, and
watered by the Big Horse River and its tributary streams; but, though these
are properly their homes, where they shelter their old people, their wives,
CHAPTER XXIV. 194

and their children, the men of the tribe are almost continually on the foray
and the scamper. They are, in fact, notorious marauders and horse−
stealers; crossing and re−crossing the mountains, robbing on the one side,
and conveying their spoils to the other. Hence, we are told, is derived their
name, given to them on account of their unsettled and predatory habits;
winging their flight, like the crows, from one side of the mountains to the
other, and making free booty of everything that lies in their way. Horses,
however, are the especial objects of their depredations, and their skill and
audacity in stealing them are said to be astonishing. This is their glory and
delight; an accomplished horse−stealer fills up their idea of a hero. Many
horses are obtained by them, also, in barter from tribes in and beyond the
mountains. They have an absolute passion for this noble animal; besides
which he is with them an important object of traffic. Once a year they make
a visit to the Mandans, Minatarees, and other tribes of the Missouri, taking
with them droves of horses which they exchange for guns, ammunition,
trinkets, vermilion, cloths of bright colors, and various other articles of
European manufacture. With these they supply their own wants and
caprices, and carry on the internal trade for horses already mentioned.

The plot of Rose to rob and abandon his countrymen when in the heart of
the wilderness, and to throw himself into the hands of savages, may appear
strange and improbable to those unacquainted with the singular and
anomalous characters that are to be found about the borders. This fellow, it
appears, was one of those desperadoes of the frontiers, outlawed by their
crimes, who combine the vices of civilized and savage life, and are ten
times more barbarous than the Indians with whom they consort. Rose had
formerly belonged to one of the gangs of pirates who infested the islands of
the Mississippi, plundering boats as they went up and down the river, and
who sometimes shifted the scene of their robberies to the shore, waylaying
travellers as they returned by land from New Orleans with the proceeds of
their downward voyage, plundering them of their money and effects, and
often perpetrating the most atrocious murders.

These hordes of villains being broken up and dispersed, Rose had betaken
himself to the wilderness, and associated himself with the Crows, whose
predatory habits were congenial with his own, had married a woman of the
CHAPTER XXV. 195

tribe, and, in short, had identified himself with those vagrant savages.

Such was the worthy guide and interpreter, Edward Rose. We give his
story, however, not as it was known to Mr. Hunt and his companions at the
time, but as it has been subsequently ascertained. Enough was known of the
fellow and his dark and perfidious character to put Mr. Hunt upon his
guard: still, as there was no knowing how far his plans might have
succeeded, and as any rash act might blow the mere smouldering sparks of
treason into a sudden blaze, it was thought advisable by those with whom
Mr. Hunt consulted, to conceal all knowledge or suspicion of the meditated
treachery, but to keep up a vigilant watch upon the movements of Rose, and
a strict guard upon the horses at night.

CHAPTER XXV.

Substitute for Fuel on the Prairies.− Fossil Trees.− Fierceness of the

Buffaloes When in Heat.− Three Hunters Missing.− Signal Fires and
Smokes.− Uneasiness Concerning the Lost Men.− A Plan to Forestall a
Rogue.− New Arrangement With Rose.− Return of the Wanderers.

THE plains over which the travellers were journeying continued to be

destitute of trees or even shrubs; insomuch that they had to use the dung of
the buffalo for fuel, as the Arabs of the desert use that of the camel. This
substitute for fuel is universal among the Indians of these upper prairies,
and is said to make a fire equal to that of turf. If a few chips are added, it
throws out a cheerful and kindly blaze.

These plains, however, had not always been equally destitute of wood, as
was evident from the trunks of the trees which the travellers repeatedly met
with, some still standing, others lying about in broken fragments, but all in
a fossil state, having flourished in times long past. In these singular
remains, the original grain of the wood was still so distinct that they could
be ascertained to be the ruins of oak trees. Several pieces of the fossil wood
were selected by the men to serve as whetstones.
CHAPTER XXV. 196

In this part of the journey there was no lack of provisions, for the prairies
were covered with immense herds of buffalo. These, in general, are animals
of peaceful demeanor, grazing quietly like domestic cattle; but this was the
season when they are in heat, and when the bulls are usually fierce and
pugnacious. There was accordingly a universal restlessness and commotion
throughout the plain; and the amorous herds gave utterance to their feelings
in low bellowings that resounded like distant thunder. Here and there fierce
duellos took place between rival enamorados; butting their huge shagged
fronts together, goring each other with their short black horns, and tearing
up the earth with their feet in perfect fury.

In one of the evening halts, Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, together with
Carson and Gardpie, two of the hunters, were missing, nor had they
returned by morning. As it was supposed they had wandered away in
pursuit of buffalo, and would readily find the track of the party, no
solicitude was felt on their account. A fire was left burning, to guide them
by its column of smoke, and the travellers proceeded on their march. In the
evening a signal fire was made on a hill adjacent to the camp, and in the
morning it was replenished with fuel so as to last throughout the day. These
signals are usual among the Indians, to give warnings to each other, or to
call home straggling hunters; and such is the transparency of the
atmosphere in those elevated plains, that a slight column of smoke can be
discerned from a great distance, particularly in the evenings. Two or three
days elapsed, however, without the reappearance of the three hunters; and
Mr. Hunt slackened his march to give them time to overtake him.

A vigilant watch continued to be kept upon the movements of Rose, and of

such of the men as were considered doubtful in their loyalty; but nothing
occurred to excite immediate apprehensions. Rose evidently was not a
favorite among his comrades, and it was hoped that he had not been able to
make any real partisans.

On the 10th of August they encamped among hills, on the highest peak of
which Mr. Hunt caused a huge pyre of pine wood to be made, which soon
sent up a great column of flame that might be seen far and wide over the
prairies. This fire blazed all night, and was amply replenished at daybreak;
CHAPTER XXV. 197

so that the towering pillar of smoke could not but be descried by the
wanderers if within the distance of a day's journey.

It is a common occurrence in these regions, where the features of the

country so much resemble each other, for hunters to lose themselves and
wander for many days, before they can find their way back to the main
body of their party. In the present instance, however, a more than common
solicitude was felt, in consequence of the distrust awakened by the sinister
designs of Rose.

The route now became excessively toilsome, over a ridge of steep rocky
hills, covered with loose stones. These were intersected by deep valleys,
formed by two branches of Big River, coming from the south of west, both
of which they crossed. These streams were bordered by meadows, well
stocked with buffaloes. Loads of meat were brought in by the hunters; but
the travellers were rendered dainty by profusion, and would cook only the
choice pieces.

They had now travelled for several days at a very slow rate, and had made
signal−fires and left traces of their route at every stage, yet nothing was
heard or seen of the lost men. It began to be feared that they might have
fallen into the hands of some lurking band of savages. A party numerous as
that of Mr. Hunt, with a long train of pack horses, moving across plains or
naked hills, is discoverable at a great distance by Indian scouts, who spread
the intelligence rapidly to various points, and assemble their friends to hang
about the skirts of the travellers, steal their horses, or cut off any stragglers
from the main body.

Mr. Hunt and his companions were more and more sensible how much it
would be in the power of this sullen and daring vagabond Rose, to do them
mischief, when they should become entangled in the defiles of the
mountains, with the passes of which they were wholly unacquainted, and
which were infested by his freebooting friends, the Crows. There, should he
succeed in seducing some of the party into his plans, he might carry off the
best horses and effects, throw himself among his savage allies, and set all
pursuit at defiance. Mr. Hunt resolved, therefore, to frustrate the knave,
CHAPTER XXV. 198

divert him, by management, from his plans, and make it sufficiently

advantageous for him to remain honest.

He took occasion, accordingly, in the course of conversation, to inform

Rose that, having engaged him chiefly as a guide and interpreter through
the country of the Crows, they would not stand in need of his services
beyond. Knowing, therefore, his connection by marriage with that tribe,
and his predilection for a residence among them, they would put no
restraint upon his will, but, whenever they met with a party of that people,
would leave him at liberty to remain among his adopted brethren.
Furthermore, that, in thus parting with him, they would pay him a half a
year's wages in consideration of his past services, and would give him a
horse, three beaver traps, and sundry other articles calculated to set him up
in the world.

This unexpected liberality, which made it nearly as profitable and infinitely

less hazardous for Rose to remain honest than to play the rogue, completely
disarmed him. From that time his whole deportment underwent a change.
His brow cleared up and appeared more cheerful; he left off his sullen,
skulking habits, and made no further attempts to tamper with the faith of
his comrades.

On the 13th of August Mr. Hunt varied his course, and inclined westward,
in hopes of falling in with the three lost hunters; who, it was now thought,
might have kept to the right hand of Big River. This course soon brought
him to a fork of the Little Missouri, about a hundred yards wide, and
resembling the great river of the same name in the strength of its current, its
turbid water, and the frequency of drift−wood and sunken trees.

Rugged mountains appeared ahead, crowding down to the water edge, and
offering a barrier to further progress on the side they were ascending.
Crossing the river, therefore, they encamped on its northwest bank, where
they found good pasturage and buffalo in abundance. The weather was
overcast and rainy, and a general gloom pervaded the camp; the voyageurs
sat smoking in groups, with their shoulders as high as their heads, croaking
their foreboding, when suddenly towards evening a shout of joy gave notice
CHAPTER XXVI. 199

that the lost men were found. They came slowly lagging into camp, with
weary looks, and horses jaded and wayworn. They had, in fact, been for
several days incessantly on the move. In their hunting excursion on the
prairies they had pushed so far in pursuit of buffalo, as to find it impossible
to retrace their steps over plains trampled by innumerable herds; and were
baffled by the monotony of the landscape in their attempts to recall
landmarks. They had ridden to and fro until they had almost lost the points
of the compass, and became totally bewildered; nor did they ever perceive
any of the signal fires and columns of smoke made by their comrades. At
length, about two days previously, when almost spent by anxiety and hard
riding, they came, to their great joy, upon the "trail" of the party, which
they had since followed up steadily.

Those only who have experienced the warm cordiality that grows up
between comrades in wild and adventurous expeditions of the kind, can
picture to themselves the hearty cheering with which the stragglers were
welcomed to the camp. Every one crowded round them to ask questions,
and to hear the story of their mishaps; and even the squaw of the moody
half−breed, Pierre Dorion, forgot the sternness of his domestic rule, and the
conjugal discipline of the cudgel, in her joy at his safe return.

CHAPTER XXVI.

The Black Mountains.− Haunts of Predatory Indians.− Their Wild and

Broken Appearance.− Superstitions Concerning Them − Thunder Spirits.−
Singular Noises in the Mountains− Secret Mines.−Hidden Treasures.−
Mountains in Labor. − Scientific Explanation.− Impassable Defiles.−
Black−Tailed Deer.−The Bighorn or Ahsahta.− Prospect From a Lofty
Height.− Plain With Herds of Buffalo.− Distant Peaks of the Rocky
Mountains.− Alarms in the Camp.− Tracks of Grizzly Bears.− Dangerous
Nature of This Animal.− Adventures of William Cannon and John Day
With Grizzly Bears.

MR. Hunt and his party were now on the skirts of the Black Hills, or Black
Mountains, as they are sometimes called; an extensive chain, lying about a
CHAPTER XXVI. 200

hundred miles east of the Rocky Mountains, and stretching in a northeast

direction from the south fork of the Nebraska, or Platte River, to the great
north bend of the Missouri. The Sierra or ridge of the Black Hills, in fact,
forms the dividing line between the waters of the Missouri and those of the
Arkansas and the Mississippi, and gives rise to the Cheyenne, the Little
Missouri, and several tributary streams of the Yellowstone.

The wild recesses of these hills, like those of the Rocky Mountains, are
retreats and lurking−places for broken and predatory tribes, and it was
among them that the remnants of the Cheyenne tribe took refuge, as has
been stated, from their conquering enemies, the Sioux.

The Black Hills are chiefly composed of sandstone, and in many places are
broken into savage cliffs and precipices, and present the most singular and
fantastic forms; sometimes resembling towns and castellated fortresses. The
ignorant inhabitants of plains are prone to clothe the mountains that bound
their horizon with fanciful and superstitious attributes. Thus the wandering
tribes of the prairies, who often behold clouds gathering round the summits
of these hills, and lightning flashing, and thunder pealing from them, when
all the neighboring plains are serene and sunny, consider them the abode of
the genii or thunder−spirits who fabricate storms and tempests. On entering
their defiles, therefore, they often hang offerings on the trees, or place them
on the rocks, to propitiate the invisible "lords of the mountains," and
procure good weather and successful hunting; and they attach unusual
significance to the echoes which haunt the precipices. This superstition may
also have arisen, in part, from a natural phenomenon of a singular nature. In
the most calm and serene weather, and at all times of the day or night,
successive reports are now and then heard among these mountains,
resembling the discharge of several pieces of artillery. Similar reports were
heard by Messrs. Lewis and Clarke in the Rocky Mountains, which they
say were attributed by the Indians to the bursting of the rich mines of silver
contained in the bosom of the mountains.

In fact, these singular explosions have received fanciful explanations from

learned men, and have not been satisfactorily accounted for even by
philosophers. They are said to occur frequently in Brazil. Vasconcelles,
CHAPTER XXVI. 201

Jesuit father, describes one which he heard in the Sierra, or mountain

region of Piratininga, and which he compares to the discharges of a park of
artillery. The Indians told him that it was an explosion of stones. The
worthy father had soon a satisfactory proof of the truth of their information,
for the very place was found where a rock had burst and exploded from its
entrails a stony mass, like a bomb−shell, and of the size of a bull's heart.
This mass was broken either in its ejection or its fall, and wonderful was
the internal organization revealed. It had a shell harder even than iron;
within which were arranged, like the seeds of a pomegranate, jewels of
various colors; some transparent as crystals; others of a fine red, and others
of mixed hues. The same phenomenon is said to occur occasionally in the
adjacent province of Guayra, where stones of the bigness of a man's hand
are exploded, with a loud noise, from the bosom of the earth, and scatter
about glittering and beautiful fragments that look like precious gems, but
are of no value.

The Indians of the Orellanna, also, tell of horrible noises heard occasionally
in the Paraguaxo, which they consider the throes and groans of the
mountains, endeavoring to cast forth the precious stones hidden within its
entrails. Others have endeavored to account for these discharges of
"mountain artillery" on humbler principles; attributing them to the loud
reports made by the disruption and fall of great masses of rock,
reverberated and prolonged by the echoes; others, to the disengagement of
hydrogen, produced by subterraneous beds of coal in a state of ignition. In
whatever way this singular phenomenon may be accounted for, the
existence of it appears to be well established. It remains one of the
lingering mysteries of nature which throw something of a supernatural
charm over her wild mountain solitudes; and we doubt whether the
imaginative reader will not rather join with the poor Indian in attributing it
to the thunderspirits, or the guardian genii of unseen treasures, than to any
commonplace physical cause.

Whatever might be the supernatural influences among these mountains, the

travellers found their physical difficulties hard to cope with. They made
repeated attempts to find a passage through or over the chain, but were as
often turned back by impassable barriers. Sometimes a defile seemed to
CHAPTER XXVI. 202

open a practicable path, but it would terminate in some wild chaos of rocks
and cliffs, which it was impossible to climb. The animals of these solitary
regions were different from those they had been accustomed to. The
black−tailed deer would bound up the ravines on their approach, and the
bighorn would gaze fearlessly down upon them from some impending
precipice, or skip playfully from rock to rock. These animals are only to be
met with in mountainous regions. The former is larger than the common
deer, but its flesh is not equally esteemed by hunters. It has very large ears,
and the tip of the tail is black, from which it derives its name.

The bighorn is so named from its horns; which are of a great size, and
twisted like those of a ram. It is called by some the argali, by others the
ibex, though differing from both of these animals. The Mandans call it the
ahsahta, a name much better than the clumsy appellation which it generally
bears. It is of the size of a small elk, or large deer, and of a dun color,
excepting the belly and round the tail, where it is white. In its habits it
resembles the goat, frequenting the rudest precipices; cropping the herbage
from their edges; and like the chamois, bounding lightly and securely
among dizzy heights, where the hunter dares not venture. It is difficult,
therefore, to get within shot of it. Ben Jones the hunter, however, in one of
the passes of the Black Hills, succeeded in bringing down a bighorn from
the verge of a precipice, the flesh of which was pronounced by the
gormands of the camp to have the flavor of excellent mutton.

Baffled in his attempts to traverse this mountain chain, Mr. Hunt skirted
along it to the southwest, keeping it on the right; and still in hopes of
finding an opening. At an early hour one day, he encamped in a narrow
valley on the banks of a beautifully clear but rushy pool; surrounded by
thickets bearing abundance of wild cherries, currants, and yellow and
purple gooseberries.

While the afternoon's meal was in preparation, Mr. Hunt and Mr. M'Kenzie
ascended to the summit of the nearest hill, from whence, aided by the purity
and transparency of the evening atmosphere, they commanded a vast
prospect on all sides. Below them extended a plain, dotted with
innumerable herds of buffalo. Some were lying among the herbage, others
CHAPTER XXVI. 203

roaming in their unbounded pastures, while many were engaged in fierce

contests like those already described, their low bellowings reaching the ear
like the hoarse murmurs of the surf on a distant shore.

Far off in the west they descried a range of lofty mountains printing the
clear horizon, some of them evidently capped with snow. These they
supposed to be the Bighorn Mountains, so called from the animal of that
name, with which they abound. They are a spur of the great Rocky chain.
The hill from whence Mr. Hunt had this prospect was, according to his
computation, about two hundred and fifty miles from the Arickara village.

On returning to the camp, Mr. Hunt found some uneasiness prevailing

among the Canadian voyageurs. In straying among the thickets they had
beheld tracks of grizzly bears in every direction, doubtless attracted thither
by the fruit. To their dismay, they now found that they had encamped in
one of the favorite resorts of this dreaded animal. The idea marred all the
comfort of the encampment. As night closed, the surrounding thickets were
peopled with terrors; insomuch that, according to Mr. Hunt, they could not
help starting at every little breeze that stirred the bushes.

The grizzly bear is the only really formidable quadruped of our continent.
He is the favorite theme of the hunters of the far West, who describe him as
equal in size to a common cow and of prodigious strength. He makes battle
if assailed, and often, if pressed by hunger, is the assailant. If wounded, he
becomes furious and will pursue the hunter. His speed exceeds that of a
man but is inferior to that of a horse. In attacking he rears himself on his
hind legs, and springs the length of his body. Woe to horse or rider that
comes within the sweep of his terrific claws, which are sometimes nine
inches in length, and tear everything before them.

At the time we are treating of, the grizzly bear was still frequent on the
Missouri and in the lower country, but, like some of the broken tribes of the
prairie, he has gradually fallen back before his enemies, and is now chiefly
to be found in the upland regions, in rugged fastnesses like those of the
Black Hills and the Rocky Mountains. Here he lurks in caverns, or holes
which he has digged in the sides of hills, or under the roots and trunks of
CHAPTER XXVI. 204

fallen trees. Like the common bear, he is fond of fruits, and mast, and roots,
the latter of which he will dig up with his foreclaws. He is carnivorous also,
and will even attack and conquer the lordly buffalo, dragging his huge
carcass to the neighborhood of his den, that he may prey upon it at his
leisure.

The hunters, both white and red men, consider this the most heroic game.
They prefer to hunt him on horseback, and will venture so near as
sometimes to singe his hair with the flash of the rifle. The hunter of the
grizzly bear, however, must be an experienced hand, and know where to
aim at a vital part; for of all quadrupeds, he is the most difficult to be killed.
He will receive repeated wounds without flinching, and rarely is a shot
mortal unless through the head or heart.

That the dangers apprehended from the grizzly bear, at this night
encampment, were not imaginary, was proved on the following morning.
Among the hired men of the party was one William Cannon, who had been
a soldier at one of the frontier posts, and entered into the employ of Mr.
Hunt at Mackinaw. He was an inexperienced hunter and a poor shot, for
which he was much bantered by his more adroit comrades. Piqued at their
raillery, he had been practicing ever since he had joined the expedition, but
without success. In the course of the present afternoon, he went forth by
himself to take a lesson in venerie and, to his great delight, had the good
fortune to kill a buffalo. As he was a considerable distance from the camp,
he cut out the tongue and some of the choice bits, made them into a parcel,
and slinging them on his shoulders by a strap passed round his forehead, as
the voyageurs carry packages of goods, set out all glorious for the camp,
anticipating a triumph over his brother hunters. In passing through a narrow
ravine, he heard a noise behind him, and looking round beheld, to his
dismay, a grizzly bear in full pursuit, apparently attracted by the scent of
the meat. Cannon had heard so much of the invulnerability of this
tremendous animal, that he never attempted to fire, but, slipping the strap
from his forehead, let go the buffalo meat and ran for his life. The bear did
not stop to regale himself with the game, but kept on after the hunter. He
had nearly overtaken him when Cannon reached a tree, and, throwing down
his rifle scrambled up it. The next instant Bruin was at the foot of the tree;
CHAPTER XXVI. 205

but, as this species of bear does not climb, he contented himself with
turning the chase into a blockade. Night came on. In the darkness Cannon
could not perceive whether or not the enemy maintained his station; but his
fears pictured him rigorously mounting guard. He passed the night,
therefore, in the tree, a prey to dismal fancies. In the morning the bear was
gone. Cannon warily descended the tree, gathered up his gun, and made the
best of his way back to the camp, without venturing to look after his buffalo
meat.

While on this theme we will add another anecdote of an adventure with a

grizzly bear, told of John Day, the Kentucky hunter, but which happened at
a different period of the expedition. Day was hunting in company with one
of the clerks of the company, a lively youngster, who was a great favorite
with the veteran, but whose vivacity he had continually to keep in check.
They were in search of deer, when suddenly a huge grizzly bear emerged
from a thicket about thirty yards distant, rearing himself upon his hind legs
with a terrific growl, and displaying a hideous array of teeth and claws. The
rifle of the young man was leveled in an instant, but John Day's iron hand
was as quickly upon his arm. "Be quiet, boy! be quiet!" exclaimed the
hunter between his clenched teeth, and without turning his eyes from the
bear. They remained motionless. The monster regarded them for a time,
then, lowering himself on his fore paws, slowly withdrew. He had not gone
many paces, before he again returned, reared himself on his hind legs, and
repeated his menace. Day's hand was still on the arm of his young
companion; he again pressed it hard, and kept repeating between his teeth,
"Quiet, boy! − keep quiet! − keep quiet!" −though the latter had not made a
move since his first prohibition. The bear again lowered himself on all
fours, retreated some twenty yards further, and again turned, reared,
showed his teeth, and growled. This third menace was too much for the
game spirit of John Day. "By Jove!" exclaimed he, "I can stand this no
longer," and in an instant a ball from his rifle whizzed into his foe. The
wound was not mortal; but, luckily, it dismayed instead of enraged the
animal, and he retreated into the thicket.

Day's companion reproached him for not practicing the caution which he
enjoined upon others. "Why, boy," replied the veteran, "caution is caution,
CHAPTER XXVII. 206

but one must not put up with too much, even from a bear. Would you have
me suffer myself to be bullied all day by a varmint?"

CHAPTER XXVII.

Indian Trail.− Rough Mountain Travelling.− Sufferings From Hunger and

Thirst− Powder River.− Game in Abundance.−A Hunter's Paradise.−
Mountain Peak Seen at a Great Distance.− One of the Bighorn Chain.−
Rocky Mountains.− Extent.− Appearance.− Height.− The Great American
Desert.− Various Characteristics of the Mountains.− Indian Superstitions
Concerning Them.− Land of Souls.− Towns of the Free and Generous
Spirits− Happy Hunting Grounds.

FOR the two following days, the travellers pursued a westerly course for
thirty−four miles along a ridge of country dividing the tributary waters of
the Missouri and the Yellowstone. As landmarks they guided themselves by
the summits of the far distant mountains, which they supposed to belong to
the Bighorn chain. They were gradually rising into a higher temperature,
for the weather was cold for the season, with a sharp frost in the night, and
ice of an eighth of an inch in thickness.

On the twenty−second of August, early in the day, they came upon the trail
of a numerous band. Rose and the other hunters examined the foot−prints
with great attention, and determined it to be the trail of a party of Crows,
returning from an annual trading visit to the Mandans. As this trail afforded
more commodious travelling, they immediately struck into it, and followed
it for two days. It led them over rough hills, and through broken gullies,
during which time they suffered great fatigue from the ruggedness of the
country. The weather, too, which had recently been frosty, was now
oppressively warm, and there was a great scarcity of water, insomuch that a
valuable dog belonging to Mr. M'Kenzie died of thirst.

At one time they had twenty−five miles of painful travel, without a drop of
water, until they arrived at a small running stream. Here they eagerly slaked
their thirst; but, this being allayed, the calls of hunger became equally
CHAPTER XXVII. 207

importunate. Ever since they had got among these barren and arid hills
where there was a deficiency of grass, they had met with no buffaloes;
those animals keeping in the grassy meadows near the streams. They were
obliged, therefore, to have recourse to their corn meal, which they reserved
for such emergencies. Some, however, were lucky enough to kill a wolf,
which they cooked for supper, and pronounced excellent food.

The next morning they resumed their wayfaring, hungry and jaded, and had
a dogged march of eighteen miles among the same kind of hills. At length
they emerged upon a stream of clear water, one of the forks of Powder
River, and to their great joy beheld once more wide grassy meadows,
stocked with herds of buffalo. For several days they kept along the banks of
the river, ascending it about eighteen miles. It was a hunter's paradise; the
buffaloes were in such abundance that they were enabled to kill as many as
they pleased, and to jerk a sufficient supply of meat for several days'
journeying. Here, then, they reveled and reposed after their hungry and
weary travel, hunting and feasting, and reclining upon the grass. Their
quiet, however, was a little marred by coming upon traces of Indians, who,
they concluded, must be Crows: they were therefore obliged to keep a more
vigilant watch than ever upon their horses. For several days they had been
directing their march towards the lofty mountain descried by Mr. Hunt and
Mr. M'Kenzie on the 17th of August, the height of which rendered it a
landmark over a vast extent of country. At first it had appeared to them
solitary and detached; but as they advanced towards it, it proved to be the
principal summit of a chain of mountains. Day by day it varied in form, or
rather its lower peaks, and the summits of others of the chain emerged
above the clear horizon, and finally the inferior line of hills which
connected most of them rose to view. So far, however, are objects
discernible in the pure atmosphere of these elevated plains, that, from the
place where they first descried the main mountain, they had to travel a
hundred and fifty miles before they reached its base. Here they encamped
on the 30th of August, having come nearly four hundred miles since
leaving the Arickara village.

The mountain which now towered above them was one of the Bighorn
chain, bordered by a river, of the same name, and extending for a long
CHAPTER XXVII. 208

distance rather east of north and west of south. It was a part of the great
system of granite mountains which forms one of the most important and
striking features of North America, stretching parallel to the coast of the
Pacific from the Isthmus of Panama almost to the Arctic Ocean; and
presenting a corresponding chain to that of the Andes in the southern
hemisphere. This vast range has acquired, from its rugged and broken
character and its summits of naked granite, the appellation of the Rocky
Mountains, a name by no means distinctive, as all elevated ranges are
rocky. Among the early explorers it was known as the range of
Chippewyan Mountains, and this Indian name is the one it is likely to retain
in poetic usage. Rising from the midst of vast plains and prairies, traversing
several degrees of latitude, dividing the waters of the Atlantic and the
Pacific, and seeming to bind with diverging ridges the level regions on its
flanks, it has been figuratively termed the backbone of the northern
continent.

The Rocky Mountains do not present a range of uniform elevation, but

rather groups and occasionally detached peaks. Though some of these rise
to the region of perpetual snows, and are upwards of eleven thousand feet
in real altitude, yet their height from their immediate basis is not so great as
might be imagined, as they swell up from elevated plains, several thousand
feet above the level of the ocean. These plains are often of a desolate
sterility; mere sandy wastes, formed of the detritus of the granite heights,
destitute of trees and herbage, scorched by the ardent and reflected rays of
the summer's sun, and in winter swept by chilling blasts from the
snow−clad mountains. Such is a great part of that vast region extending
north and south along the mountains, several hundred miles in width, which
has not improperly been termed the Great American Desert. It is a region
that almost discourages all hope of cultivation, and can only be traversed
with safety by keeping near the streams which intersect it. Extensive plains
likewise occur among the higher regions of the mountains, of considerable
fertility. Indeed, these lofty plats of table−land seem to form a peculiar
feature in the American continents. Some occur among the Cordilleras of
the Andes, where cities, and towns, and cultivated farms are to be seen
eight thousand feet above the level of the sea.
CHAPTER XXVII. 209

The Rocky Mountains, as we have already observed, occur sometimes

singly or in groups, and occasionally in collateral ridges. Between these are
deep valleys, with small streams winding through them, which find their
way into the lower plains, augmenting as they proceed, and ultimately
discharging themselves into those vast rivers, which traverse the prairies
like great arteries, and drain the continent.

While the granitic summits of the Rocky Mountains are bleak and bare,
many of the inferior ridges are scantily clothed with scrubbed pines, oaks,
cedar, and furze. Various parts of the mountains also bear traces of volcanic
action. Some of the interior valleys are strewed with scoria and broken
stones, evidently of volcanic origin; the surrounding rocks bear the like
character, and vestiges of extinguished craters are to be seen on the
elevated heights.

We have already noticed the superstitious feelings with which the Indians
regard the Black Hills; but this immense range of mountains, which divides
all that they know of the world, and gives birth to such mighty rivers, is still
more an object of awe and veneration. They call it "the crest of the world,"
and think that Wacondah, or the master of life, as they designate the
Supreme Being, has his residence among these aerial heights. The tribes on
the eastern prairies call them the mountains of the setting sun. Some of
them place the "happy hunting−grounds," their ideal paradise, among the
recesses of these mountains; but say that they are invisible to living men.
Here also is the "Land of Souls," in which are the "towns of the free and
generous spirits," where those who have pleased the master of life while
living, enjoy after death all manner of delights.

Wonders are told of these mountains by the distant tribes, whose warriors
or hunters have ever wandered in their neighborhood. It is thought by some
that, after death, they will have to travel to these mountains and ascend one
of their highest and most rugged peaks, among rocks and snows and
tumbling torrents. After many moons of painful toil they will reach the
summit, from whence they will have a view over the land of souls. There
they will see the happy hunting−grounds, with the souls of the brave and
good living in tents in green meadows, by bright running streams, or
CHAPTER XXVIII. 210

hunting the herds of buffalo, and elk, and deer, which have been slain on
earth. There, too, they will see the villages or towns of the free and
generous spirits brightening in the midst of delicious prairies. If they have
acquitted themselves well while living, they will be permitted to descend
and enjoy this happy country; if otherwise they will but be tantalized with
this prospect of it, and then hurled back from the mountain to wander about
the sandy plains, and endure the eternal pangs of unsatisfied thirst and
hunger.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Region of the Crow Indians− Scouts on the Lookout− Visit From a Crew of
Hard Riders.− A Crow Camp.− Presents to the Crow Chief.−
Bargaining.−Crow Bullies.−Rose Among His Indian Friends.−Parting With
the Crows.− Perplexities Among the Mountains.− More of the Crows.−
Equestrian Children.− Search After Stragglers.

THE travellers had now arrived in the vicinity of the mountain regions
infested by the Crow Indians. These restless marauders, as has already been
observed, are apt to be continually on the prowl about the skirts of the
mountains; and even when encamped in some deep and secluded glen, they
keep scouts upon the cliffs and promontories, who, unseen themselves, can
discern every living thing that moves over the subjacent plains and valleys.
It was not to be expected that our travellers could pass unseen through a
region thus vigilantly sentineled; accordingly, in the edge of the evening,
not long after they had encamped at the foot of the Bighorn Sierra, a couple
of wild−looking beings, scantily clad in skins, but well armed, and mounted
on horses as wild− looking as themselves, were seen approaching with
great caution from among the rocks. They might have been mistaken for
two of the evil spirits of the mountains so formidable in Indian fable.

Rose was immediately sent out to hold a parley with them, and invite them
to the camp. They proved to be two scouts from the same band that had
been tracked for some days past, and which was now encamped at some
distance in the folds of the mountain. They were easily prevailed upon to
CHAPTER XXVIII. 211

come to the camp, where they were well received, and, after remaining
there until late in the evening, departed to make a report of all they had
seen and experienced to their companions.

The following day had scarce dawned, when a troop of these wild mountain
scamperers came galloping with whoops and yells into the camp, bringing
an invitation from their chief for the white men to visit him. The tents were
accordingly struck, the horses laden, and the party were soon on the march.
The Crow horsemen, as they escorted them, appeared to take pride in
showing off their equestrian skill and hardihood; careering at full speed on
their half−savage steeds, and dashing among rocks and crags, and up and
down the most rugged and dangerous places with perfect ease and
unconcern.

A ride of sixteen miles brought them, in the afternoon, in sight of the Crow
camp. It was composed of leathern tents, pitched in a meadow on the
border of a small clear stream at the foot of the mountain. A great number
of horses were grazing in the vicinity, many of them doubtless captured in
marauding excursions,

The Crow chieftain came forth to meet his guests with great professions of
friendship, and conducted them to his tents, pointing out, by the way, a
convenient place where they might fix their camp. No sooner had they done
so, than Mr. Hunt opened some of the packages and made the chief a
present of a scarlet blanket and a quantity of powder and ball; he gave him
also some knives, trinkets, and tobacco to be distributed among his
warriors, with all which the grim potentate seemed, for the time, well
pleased. As the Crows, however, were reputed to be perfidious in the
extreme, and as errant freebooters as the bird after which they were so
worthily named; and as their general feelings towards the whites were
known to be by no means friendly, the intercourse with them was
conducted with great circumspection.

The following day was passed in trading with the Crows for buffalo robes
and skins, and in bartering galled and jaded horses for others that were in
good condition. Some of the men, also, purchased horses on their own
CHAPTER XXVIII. 212

account, so that the number now amounted to one hundred and twenty−one,
most of them sound and active, and fit for mountain service.

Their wants being supplied, they ceased all further traffic, much to the
dissatisfaction of the Crows, who became extremely urgent to continue the
trade, and, finding their importunities of no avail, assumed an insolent and
menacing tone. All this was attributed by Mr. Hunt and his associates to the
perfidious instigations of Rose the interpreter, whom they suspected of the
desire to foment ill−will between them and the savages, for the promotion
of his nefarious plans. M'Lellan, with his usual tranchant mode of dealing
out justice, resolved to shoot the desperado on the spot in case of any
outbreak. Nothing of the kind, however, occurred. The Crows were
probably daunted by the resolute, though quiet demeanor of the white men,
and the constant vigilance and armed preparations which they maintained;
and Rose, if he really still harbored his knavish designs, must have
perceived that they were suspected, and, if attempted to be carried into
effect, might bring ruin on his own head.

The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Hunt proposed to resume his
journeying. He took a ceremonious leave of the Crow chieftain, and his
vagabond warriors, and according to previous arrangements, consigned to
their cherishing friendship and fraternal adoption, their worthy confederate
Rose; who, having figured among the water pirates of the Mississippi, was
well fitted to rise to distinction among the land pirates of the Rocky
Mountains.

It is proper to add, that the ruffian was well received among the tribe, and
appeared to be perfectly satisfied with the compromise he had made;
feeling much more at his ease among savages than among white men. It is
outcasts from justice, and heartless desperadoes of this kind who sow the
seeds of enmity and bitterness among the unfortunate tribes of the frontier.
There is no enemy so implacable against a country or a community as one
of its own people who has rendered himself an alien by his crimes.

Right glad to be delivered from this treacherous companion, Mr. Hunt

pursued his course along the skirts of the mountain, in a southern direction,
CHAPTER XXVIII. 213

seeking for some practicable defile by which he might pass through it; none
such presented, however, in the course of fifteen miles, and he encamped
on a small stream, still on the outskirts. The green meadows which border
these mountain streams are generally well stocked with game, and the
hunters killed several fat elks, which supplied the camp with fresh meat. In
the evening the travellers were surprised by an unwelcome visit from
several Crows belonging to a different band from that which they recently
left, and who said their camp was among the mountains. The consciousness
of being environed by such dangerous neighbors, and of being still within
the range of Rose and his fellow ruffians, obliged the party to be
continually on the alert, and to maintain weary vigils throughout the night,
lest they should be robbed of their horses.

On the third of September, finding that the mountain still stretched

onwards, presenting a continued barrier, they endeavored to force a passage
to the westward, but soon became entangled among rocks and precipices
which set all their efforts at defiance. The mountain seemed, for the most
part, rugged, bare, and sterile; yet here and there it was clothed with pines,
and with shrubs and flowering plants, some of which were in bloom. In
tolling among these weary places, their thirst became excessive, for no
water was to be met with. Numbers of the men wandered off into rocky
dells and ravines in hopes of finding some brook or fountain; some of
whom lost their way and did not rejoin the main party.

After a day of painful and fruitless scrambling, Mr. Hunt gave up the
attempt to penetrate in this direction, and, returning to the little stream on
the skirts of the mountain, pitched his tents within six miles of his
encampment of the preceding night. He now ordered that signals should be
made for the stragglers in quest of water; but the night passed away without
their return.

The next morning, to their surprise, Rose made his appearance at the camp,
accompanied by some of his Crow associates. His unwelcome visit revived
their suspicions; but he announced himself as a messenger of good−will
from the chief, who, finding they had taken the wrong road, had sent Rose
and his companions to guide them to a nearer and better one across the
CHAPTER XXVIII. 214

mountain.

Having no choice, being themselves utterly at fault, they set out under this
questionable escort. They had not gone far before they fell in with the
whole party of Crows, who, they now found, were going the same road
with themselves. The two cavalcades of white and red men, therefore,
pushed on together, and presented a wild and picturesque spectacle, as,
equipped with various weapons and in various garbs, with trains of
pack−horses, they wound in long lines through the rugged defiles, and up
and down the crags and steeps of the mountain.

The travellers had again an opportunity to see and admire the equestrian
habitudes and address of this hard−riding tribe. They were all mounted,
man, woman, and child, for the Crows have horses in abundance, so that no
one goes on foot. The children are perfect imps on horseback. Among them
was one so young that he could not yet speak. He was tied on a colt of two
years old, but managed the reins as if by instinct, and plied the whip with
true Indian prodigality. Mr. Hunt inquired the age of this infant jockey, and
was answered that "he had seen two winters."

This is almost realizing the fable of the centaurs; nor can we wonder at the
equestrian adroitness of these savages, who are thus in a manner cradled in
the saddle, and become in infancy almost identified with the animal they
bestride.

The mountain defiles were exceedingly rough and broken, and the
travelling painful to the burdened horses. The party, therefore, proceeded
but slowly, and were gradually left behind by the band of Crows, who had
taken the lead. It is more than probable that Mr. Hunt loitered in his course,
to get rid of such doubtful fellow−travellers. Certain it is that he felt a
sensation of relief as he saw the whole crew, the renegade Rose and all,
disappear among the windings of the mountain, and heard the last yelp of
the savages die away in the distance.

When they were fairly out of sight, and out of hearing, he encamped on the
head waters of the little stream of the preceding day, having come about
CHAPTER XXIX 215

sixteen miles. Here he remained all the succeeding day, as well to give time
for the Crows to get in the advance, as for the stragglers, who had wandered
away in quest of water two days previously, to rejoin the camp. Indeed,
considerable uneasiness began to be felt concerning these men, lest they
should become utterly bewildered in the defiles of the mountains, or should
fall into the hands of some marauding band of savages. Some of the most
experienced hunters were sent in search of them; others, in the meantime,
employed themselves in hunting. The narrow valley in which they
encamped being watered by a running stream, yielded fresh pasturage, and
though in the heart of the Bighorn Mountains, was well stocked with
buffalo. Several of these were killed, as also a grizzly bear. In the evening,
to the satisfaction of all parties, the stragglers made their appearance, and
provisions being in abundance, there was hearty good cheer in the camp.

CHAPTER XXIX

Mountain Glens.− Wandering Band of Savages− Anecdotes of Shoshon−

ies and Flatheads.− Root Diggers− Their Solitary Lurking Habits.−
Gnomes of the Mountains.− Wind River.− Scarcity of Food.−Alter− ation
of Route.−The Pilot Knobs or Tetons.− Branch of the Colorado. − Hunting
Camp.

RESUMING their course on the following morning, Mr. Hunt and his
companions continued on westward through a rugged region of hills and
rocks, but diversified in many places by grassy little glens, with springs of
water, bright sparkling brooks, clumps of pine trees, and a profusion of
flowering plants, which were in bloom, although the weather was frosty.
These beautiful and verdant recesses, running through and softening the
rugged mountains, were cheering and refreshing to the wayworn travellers.

In the course of the morning, as they were entangled in a defile, they beheld
a small band of savages, as wild−looking as the surrounding scenery, who
reconnoitred them warily from the rocks before they ventured to advance.
Some of them were mounted on horses rudely caparisoned with bridles or
halters of buffalo hide, one end trailing after them on the ground. They
CHAPTER XXIX 216

proved to be a mixed party of Flatheads and Shoshonies , or Snakes; and as

these tribes will be frequently mentioned in the course of this work, we
shall give a few introductory particulars concerning them.

The Flatheads in question are not to be confounded with those of the name
who dwell about the lower waters of the Columbia; neither do they flatten
their heads, as the others do. They inhabit the banks of a river on the west
side of the mountains, and are described as simple, honest, and hospitable.
Like all people of similar character, whether civilized or savage, they are
prone to be imposed upon; and are especially maltreated by the ruthless
Blackfeet, who harass them in their villages, steal their horses by night, or
openly carry them off in the face of day, without provoking pursuit or
retaliation.

The Shoshonies are a branch of the once powerful and prosperous tribe of
the Snakes, who possessed a glorious hunting country about the upper forks
of the Missouri, abounding in beaver and buffalo. Their hunting ground
was occasionally invaded by the Blackfeet, but the Snakes battled bravely
for their domains, and a long and bloody feud existed, with variable
success. At length the Hudson's Bay Company, extending their trade into
the interior, had dealings with the Blackfeet, who were nearest to them, and
supplied them with fire−arms. The Snakes, who occasionally traded with
the Spaniards, endeavored, but in vain, to obtain similar weapons; the
Spanish traders wisely refused to arm them so formidably. The Blackfeet
had now a vast advantage, and soon dispossessed the poor Snakes of their
favorite hunting grounds, their land of plenty, and drove them from place to
place, until they were fain to take refuge in the wildest and most desolate
recesses of the Rocky Mountains. Even here they are subject to occasional
visits from their implacable foes, as long as they have horses, or any other
property to tempt the plunderer. Thus by degrees the Snakes have become a
scattered, broken−spirited, impoverished people; keeping about lonely
rivers and mountain streams, and subsisting chiefly upon fish. Such of them
as still possess horses, and occasionally figure as hunters, are called
Shoshonies; but there is another class, the most abject and forlorn, who are
called Shuckers, or more commonly Diggers and Root Eaters. These are a
shy, secret, solitary race, who keep in the most retired parts of the
CHAPTER XXIX 217

mountains, lurking like gnomes in caverns and clefts of the rocks, and
subsisting in a great measure on the roots of the earth. Sometimes, in
passing through a solitary mountain valley, the traveller comes perchance
upon the bleeding carcass of a deer or buffalo that has just been slain. He
looks round in vain for the hunter; the whole landscape is lifeless and
deserted: at length he perceives a thread of smoke, curling up from among
the crags and cliffs, and scrambling to the place, finds some forlorn and
skulking brood of Diggers, terrified at being discovered.

The Shoshonies, however, who, as has been observed, have still "horse to
ride and weapon to wear," are somewhat bolder in their spirit, and more
open and wide in their wanderings. In the autumn, when salmon disappear
from the rivers, and hunger begins to pinch, they even venture down into
their ancient hunting grounds, to make a foray among the buffaloes. In this
perilous enterprise they are occasionally joined by the Flatheads, the
persecutions of the Blackfeet having produced a close alliance and
cooperation between these luckless and maltreated tribes. Still,
notwithstanding their united force, every step they take within the debatable
ground is taken in fear and trembling, and with the utmost precaution: and
an Indian trader assures us that he has seen at least five hundred of them,
armed and equipped for action, and keeping watch upon the hill tops, while
about fifty were hunting in the prairie. Their excursions are brief and
hurried; as soon as they have collected and jerked sufficient buffalo meat
for winter provisions, they pack their horses, abandon the dangerous
hunting grounds, and hasten back to the mountains, happy if they have not
the terrible Blackfeet rattling after them.

Such a confederate band of Shoshonies and Flatheads was the one met by
our travellers. It was bound on a visit to the Arrapahoes, a tribe inhabiting
the banks of the Nebraska. They were armed to the best of their scanty
means, and some of the Shoshonies had bucklers of buffalo hide, adorned
with feathers and leathern fringes, and which have a charmed virtue in their
eyes, from having been prepared, with mystic ceremonies, by their
conjurers.
CHAPTER XXIX 218

In company with this wandering band our travellers proceeded all day. In
the evening they encamped near to each other in a defile of the mountains,
on the borders of a stream running north, and falling into Bighorn River. In
the vicinity of the camp, they found gooseberries, strawberries, and currants
in great abundance. The defile bore traces of having been a thoroughfare
for countless herds of buffaloes, though not one was to be seen. The hunters
succeeded in killing an elk and several black−tailed deer.

They were now in the bosom of the second Bighorn ridge, with another
lofty and snow−crowned mountain full in view to the west. Fifteen miles of
western course brought them, on the following day, down into an
intervening plain, well stocked with buffalo. Here the Snakes and Flatheads
joined with the white hunters in a successful hunt, that soon filled the camp
with provisions.

On the morning of the 9th of September, the travellers parted company with
their Indian friends, and continued on their course to the west. A march of
thirty miles brought them, in the evening, to the banks of a rapid and
beautifully clear stream about a hundred yards wide. It is the north fork or
branch of the Bighorn River, but bears its peculiar name of the Wind River,
from being subject in the winter season to a continued blast which sweeps
its banks and prevents the snow from lying on them. This blast is said to be
caused by a narrow gap or funnel in the mountains, through which the river
forces its way between perpendicular precipices, resembling cut rocks.

This river gives its name to a whole range of mountains consisting of three
parallel chains, eighty miles in length, and about twenty or twenty−five
broad. One of its peaks is probably fifteen thousand feet above the level of
the sea, being one of the highest of the Rocky Sierra. These mountains give
rise, not merely to the Wind or Bighorn River, but to several branches of
the Yellowstone and the Missouri on the east, and of the Columbia and
Colorado on the west; thus dividing the sources of these mighty streams.

For five succeeding days, Mr. Hunt and his party continued up the course
of the Wind River, to the distance of about eighty miles, crossing and
recrossing it, according to its windings, and the nature of its banks;
CHAPTER XXIX 219

sometimes passing through valleys, at other times scrambling over rocks

and hills. The country in general was destitute of trees, but they passed
through groves of wormwood, eight and ten feet in height, which they used
occasionally for fuel, and they met with large quantities of wild flax.

The mountains were destitute of game; they came in sight of two grizzly
bears, but could not get near enough for a shot; provisions, therefore, began
to be scanty. They saw large flights of the kind of thrush commonly called
the robin, and many smaller birds of migratory species; but the hills in
general appeared lonely and with few signs of animal life. On the evening
of the 14th September, they encamped on the forks of the Wind or Bighorn
River. The largest of these forks came from the range of Wind River
Mountains.

The hunters who served as guides to the party in this part of their route, had
assured Mr. Hunt that, by following up Wind River, and crossing a single
mountain ridge, he would come upon the head waters of the Columbia.
This scarcity of game, however, which already had been felt to a pinching
degree, and which threatened them with famine among the sterile heights
which lay before them, admonished them to change their course. It was
determined, therefore, to make for a stream, which they were informed
passed the neighboring mountains, to the south of west, on the grassy banks
of which it was probable they would meet with buffalo. Accordingly, about
three o'clock on the following day, meeting with a beaten Indian road
which led in the proper direction, they struck into it, turning their backs
upon Wind River.

In the course of the day, they came to a height that commanded an almost
boundless prospect. Here one of the guides paused, and, after considering
the vast landscape attentively, pointed to three mountain peaks glistening
with snow, which rose, he said, above a fork of Columbia River. They were
hailed by the travellers with that joy with which a beacon on a seashore is
hailed by mariners after a long and dangerous voyage.

It is true there was many a weary league to be traversed before they should
reach these landmarks, for, allowing for their evident height and the
CHAPTER XXIX 220

extreme transparency of the atmosphere, they could not be much less than a
hundred miles distant. Even after reaching them, there would yet remain
hundreds of miles of their journey to be accomplished. All these matters
were forgotten in the joy at seeing the first landmarks of the Columbia, that
river which formed the bourne of the expedition. These remarkable peaks
were known as the Tetons; as guiding points for many days, to Mr. Hunt,
he gave them the names of the Pilot Knobs.

The travellers continued their course to the south of west for about forty
miles, through a region so elevated that patches of snow lay on the highest
summits and on the northern declivities. At length they came to the desired
stream, the object of their search, the waters of which flowed to the west. It
was, in fact, a branch of the Colorado, which falls into the Gulf of
California, and had received from the hunters the name of Spanish River,
from information given by the Indians that Spaniards resided upon its lower
waters.

The aspect of this river and its vicinity was cheering to the wayworn and
hungry travellers. Its banks were green, and there were grassy valleys
running from it various directions, into the heart of the rugged mountains,
with herds of buffalo quietly grazing. The hunters sallied forth with keen
alacrity, and soon returned laden with provisions.

In this part of the mountains Mr. Hunt met with three different kinds of
gooseberries. The common purple, on a low and very thorny bush; a yellow
kind, of an excellent flavor, growing on a stock free from thorns; and a
deep purple, of the size and taste of our winter grape, with a thorny stalk.
There were also three kinds of currants, one very large and well tasted, of a
purple color, and growing on a bush eight or nine feet high. Another of a
yellow color, and of the size and taste of the large red currant, the bush four
or five feet high; and the third a beautiful scarlet, resembling the strawberry
in sweetness, though rather insipid, and growing on a low bush.

On the 17th they continued down the course of the river, making fifteen
miles to the southwest. The river abounded with geese and ducks, and there
were signs of its being inhabited by beaver and otters: indeed they were
CHAPTER XXX. 221

now approaching regions where these animals, the great objects of the fur
trade, are said to abound. They encamped for the night opposite the end of
a mountain in the west, which was probably the last chain of the Rocky
Mountains. On the following morning they abandoned the main course of
the Spanish River, and taking a northwest direction for eight miles, came
upon one of its little tributaries, issuing out of the bosom of the mountains,
and running through green meadows, yielding pasturage to herds of
buffalo. As these were probably the last of that animal they would meet
with, they encamped on the grassy banks of the river, determined to spend
several days in hunting, so as to be able to jerk sufficient meat to supply
them until they should reach the waters of the Columbia, where they trusted
to find fish enough for their support. A little repose, too, was necessary for
both men and horses, after their rugged and incessant marching; having in
the course of the last seventeen days traversed two hundred and sixty miles
of rough, and in many parts sterile, mountain country.

CHAPTER XXX.

A Plentiful Hunting Camp.−Shoshonie Hunters − Hoback's River − Mad

River− Encampment Near the Pilot Knobs.− A Consultation. −
Preparations for a Perilous Voyage.

FIVE days were passed by Mr. Hunt and his companions in the fresh
meadows watered by the bright little mountain stream. The hunters made
great havoc among the buffaloes, and brought in quantities of meat; the
voyageurs busied themselves about the fires, roasting and stewing for
present purposes, or drying provisions for the journey; the pack−horses,
eased of their burdens, rolled on the grass, or grazed at large about the
ample pasture; those of the party who had no call upon their services,
indulged in the luxury of perfect relaxation, and the camp presented a
picture of rude feasting and revelry, of mingled bustle and repose,
characteristic of a halt in a fine hunting country. In the course of one of
their excursions, some of the men came in sight of a small party of Indians,
who instantly fled in great apparent consternation. They immediately
retreated to camp with the intelligence: upon which Mr. Hunt and four
CHAPTER XXX. 222

others flung themselves upon their horses, and sallied forth to reconnoitre.
After riding for about eight miles, they came upon a wild mountain scene.
A lonely green valley stretched before them, surrounded by rugged heights.
A herd of buffalo were careering madly through it, with a troop of savage
horsemen in full chase, plying them with their bows and arrows. The
appearance of Mr. Hunt and his companions put an abrupt end to the hunt;
the buffalo scuttled off in one direction, while the Indians plied their lashes
and galloped off in another, as fast as their steeds could carry them. Mr.
Hunt gave chase; there was a sharp scamper, though of short continuance.
Two young Indians, who were indifferently mounted, were soon overtaken.
They were terribly frightened, and evidently gave themselves up for lost.
By degrees their fears were allayed by kind treatment; but they continued to
regard the strangers with a mixture of awe and wonder, for it was the first
time in their lives they had ever seen a white man.

They belonged to a party of Snakes who had come across the mountains on
their autumnal hunting excursion to provide buffalo meat for the winter.
Being persuaded of the peaceful intentions of Mr. Hunt and his
companions, they willingly conducted them to their camp. It was pitched in
a narrow valley on the margin of a stream. The tents were of dressed skins,
some of them fantastically painted; with horses grazing about them. The
approach of the party caused a transient alarm in the camp, for these poor
Indians were ever on the look−out for cruel foes. No sooner, however, did
they recognize the garb and complexion of their visitors, than their
apprehensions were changed into Joy; for some of them had dealt with
white men, and knew them to be friendly, and to abound with articles of
singular value. They welcomed them, therefore, to their tents, set food
before them; and entertained them to the best of their power.

They had been successful in their hunt, and their camp was full of jerked
buffalo meat, all of the choicest kind, and extremely fat. Mr. Hunt
purchased enough of them, in addition to what had been killed and cured by
his own hunters, to load all the horses excepting those reserved for the
partners and the wife of Pierre Dorion. He found, also, a few beaver skins
in their camp, for which he paid liberally, as an inducement to them to hunt
for more; informing them that some of his party intended to live among the
CHAPTER XXX. 223

mountains, and trade with the native hunters for their peltries. The poor
Snakes soon comprehended the advantages thus held out to them, and
promised to exert themselves to procure a quantity of beaver skins for
future traffic. Being now well supplied with provisions, Mr. Hunt broke up
his encampment on the 24th of September, and continued on to the west. A
march of fifteen miles, over a mountain ridge, brought them to a stream
about fifty feet in width, which Hoback, one of their guides, who had
trapped about the neighborhood when in the service of Mr. Henry,
recognized for one of the head waters of the Columbia. The travellers
hailed it with delight, as the first stream they had encountered tending
toward their point of destination. They kept along it for two days, during
which, from the contribution of many rills and brooks, it gradually swelled
into a small river. As it meandered among rocks and precipices, they were
frequently obliged to ford it, and such was its rapidity that the men were
often in danger of being swept away. Sometimes the banks advanced so
close upon the river that they were obliged to scramble up and down their
rugged promontories, or to skirt along their bases where there was scarce a
foothold. Their horses had dangerous falls in some of these passes. One of
them rolled, with his load, nearly two hundred feet down hill into the river,
but without receiving any injury. At length they emerged from these
stupendous defiles, and continued for several miles along the bank of
Hoback's River, through one of the stern mountain valleys. Here it was
joined by a river of greater magnitude and swifter current, and their united
waters swept off through the valley in one impetuous stream, which, from
its rapidity and turbulence, had received the name of the Mad River. At the
confluence of these streams the travellers encamped. An important point in
their arduous journey had been attained; a few miles from their camp rose
the three vast snowy peaks called the Tetons, or the Pilot Knobs , the great
landmarks of the Columbia, by which they had shaped their course through
this mountain wilderness. By their feet flowed the rapid current of Mad
River, a stream ample enough to admit of the navigation of canoes, and
down which they might possibly be able to steer their course to the main
body of the Columbia. The Canadian voyageurs rejoiced at the idea of once
more launching themselves upon their favorite element; of exchanging their
horses for canoes, and of gliding down the bosoms of rivers, instead of
scrambling over the backs of mountains. Others of the party, also,
CHAPTER XXXI. 224

inexperienced in this kind of travelling, considered their toils and troubles

as drawing to a close. They had conquered the chief difficulties of this great
rocky barrier, and now flattered themselves with the hope of an easy
downward course for the rest of their journey. Little did they dream of the
hardships and perils by land and water, which were yet to be encountered in
the frightful wilderness that intervened between them and the shores of the
Pacific!

CHAPTER XXXI.

A Consultation Whether to Proceed by Land or Water− Preparations for

Boat−Building.− An Exploring Party.− A Party of Trappers Detached.−
Two Snake Visitors.− Their Report Concerning the River. − Confirmed by
the Exploring Party. − Mad River Abandoned.− Arrival at Henry's Fort.−
Detachment of Robinson, Hoback, and Rezner to Trap.− Mr. Miller
Resolves to Accompany Them.− Their Departure.

0N the banks of Mad River Mr. Hunt held a consultation with the other
partners as to their future movements. The wild and impetuous current of
the river rendered him doubtful whether it might not abound with
impediments lower down, sufficient to render the navigation of it slow and
perilous, if not impracticable. The hunters who had acted as guides knew
nothing of the character of the river below; what rocks, and shoals, and
rapids might obstruct it, or through what mountains and deserts it might
pass. Should they then abandon their horses, cast themselves loose in
fragile barks upon this wild, doubtful, and unknown river; or should they
continue their more toilsome and tedious, but perhaps more certain
wayfaring by land?

The vote, as might have been expected, was almost unanimous for
embarkation; for when men are in difficulties every change seems to be for
the better. The difficulty now was to find timber of sufficient size for the
construction of canoes, the trees in these high mountain regions being
chiefly a scrubbed growth of pines and cedars, aspens, haws, and
service−berries, and a small kind of cotton−tree, with a leaf resembling that
CHAPTER XXXI. 225

of the willow. There was a species of large fir, but so full of knots as to
endanger the axe in hewing it. After searching for some time, a growth of
timber, of sufficient size, was found lower down the river, whereupon the
encampment was moved to the vicinity.

The men were now set to work to fell trees, and the mountains echoed to
the unwonted sound of their axes. While preparations were thus going on
for a voyage down the river, Mr. Hunt, who still entertained doubts of its
practicability, despatched an exploring party, consisting of John Reed, the
clerk, John Day, the hunter, and Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, with orders
to proceed several days' march along the stream, and notice its course and
character.

After their departure, Mr. Hunt turned his thoughts to another object of
importance. He had now arrived at the head waters of the Columbia, which
were among the main points embraced by the enterprise of Mr. Astor.
These upper streams were reputed to abound in beaver, and had as yet been
unmolested by the white trapper. The numerous signs of beaver met with
during the recent search for timber gave evidence that the neighborhood
was a good "trapping ground." Here, then, it was proper to begin to cast
loose those leashes of hardy trappers, that are detached from trading parties,
in the very heart of the wilderness. The men detached in the present
instance were Alexander Carson, Louis St. Michel, Pierre Detaye, and
Pierre Delaunay. Trappers generally go in pairs, that they may assist,
protect, and comfort each other in their lonely and perilous occupations.
Thus Carson and St. Michel formed one couple, and Detaye and Delaunay
another. They were fitted out with traps, arms, ammunition, horses, and
every other requisite, and were to trap upon the upper part of Mad River,
and upon the neighboring streams of the mountains. This would probably
occupy them for some months; and, when they should have collected a
sufficient quantity of peltries, they were to pack them upon their horses and
make the best of their way to the mouth of Columbia River, or to any
intermediate post which might be established by the company. They took
leave of their comrades and started off on their several courses with stout
hearts and cheerful countenances; though these lonely cruisings into a wild
and hostile wilderness seem to the uninitiated equivalent to being cast adrift
CHAPTER XXXI. 226

in the ship's yawl in the midst of the ocean.

Of the perils that attend the lonely trapper, the reader will have sufficient
proof, when he comes, in the after part of this work, to learn the hard
fortunes of these poor fellows in the course of their wild peregrinations.

The trappers had not long departed, when two Snake Indians wandered into
the camp. When they perceived that the strangers were fabricating canoes,
they shook their heads and gave them to understand that the river was not
navigable. Their information, however, was scoffed at by some of the party,
who were obstinately bent on embarkation, but was confirmed by the
exploring party, who returned after several days' absence. They had kept
along the river with great difficulty for two days, and found it a narrow,
crooked, turbulent stream, confined in a rocky channel, with many rapids,
and occasionally overhung with precipices. From the summit of one of
these they had caught a bird's−eye view of its boisterous career for a great
distance through the heart of the mountain, with impending rocks and cliffs.
Satisfied from this view that it was useless to follow its course, either by
land or water, they had given up all further investigation.

These concurring reports determined Mr. Hunt to abandon Mad River, and
seek some more navigable stream. This determination was concurred in by
all his associates excepting Mr. Miller, who had become impatient of the
fatigue of land travel, and was for immediate embarkation at all hazards.
This gentleman had been in a gloomy and irritated state of mind for some
time past, being troubled with a bodily malady that rendered travelling on
horseback extremely irksome to him, and being, moreover, discontented
with having a smaller share in the expedition than his comrades. His
unreasonable objections to a further march by land were overruled, and the
party prepared to decamp.

Robinson, Hoback, and Rezner, the three hunters who had hitherto served
as guides among the mountains, now stepped forward, and advised Mr.
Hunt to make for the post established during the preceding year by Mr.
Henry, of the Missouri Fur Company. They had been with Mr. Henry, and,
as far as they could judge by the neighboring landmarks, his post could not
CHAPTER XXXI. 227

be very far off. They presumed there could be but one intervening ridge of
mountains, which might be passed without any great difficulty. Henry's
post, or fort, was on an upper branch of the Columbia, down which they
made no doubt it would be easy to navigate in canoes.

The two Snake Indians being questioned in the matter, showed a perfect
knowledge of the situation of the post, and offered, with great alacrity, to
guide them to the place. Their offer was accepted, greatly to the displeasure
of Mr. Miller, who seemed obstinately bent upon braving the perils of Mad
River.

The weather for a few days past had been stormy, with rain and sleet. The
Rocky Mountains are subject to tempestuous winds from the west; these
sometimes come in flaws or currents, making a path through the forests
many yards in width, and whirling off trunks and branches to a great
distance. The present storm subsided on the third of October, leaving all the
surrounding heights covered with snow; for while rain had fallen in the
valley, it had snowed on the hill tops.

On the 4th, they broke up their encampment, and crossed the river, the
water coming up to the girths of their horses. After travelling four miles,
they encamped at the foot of the mountain, the last, as they hoped, which
they should have to traverse. Four days more took them across it, and over
several plains, watered by beautiful little streams, tributaries of Mad River.
Near one of their encampments there was a hot spring continually emitting
a cloud of vapor. These elevated plains, which give a peculiar character to
the mountains, are frequented by large gangs of antelopes, fleet as the wind.

On the evening of the 8th of October, after a cold wintry day, with gusts of
westerly wind and flurries of snow, they arrived at the sought−for post of
Mr. Henry. Here he had fixed himself, after being compelled by the
hostilities of the Blackfeet, to abandon the upper waters of the Missouri.
The post, however, was deserted, for Mr. Henry had left it in the course of
the preceding spring, and, as it afterwards appeared, had fallen in with Mr.
Lisa, at the Arickara village on the Missouri, some time after the separation
of Mr. Hunt and his party.
CHAPTER XXXI. 228

The weary travellers gladly took possession of the deserted log huts which
had formed the post, and which stood on the bank of a stream upwards of a
hundred yards wide, on which they intended to embark. There being plenty
of suitable timber in the neighborhood, Mr. Hunt immediately proceeded to
construct canoes. As he would have to leave his horses and their
accoutrements here, he determined to make this a trading post, where the
trappers and hunters, to be distributed about the country, might repair; and
where the traders might touch on their way through the mountains to and
from the establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. He informed the two
Snake Indians of this determination, and engaged them to remain in that
neighborhood and take care of the horses until the white men should return,
promising them ample rewards for their fidelity. It may seem a desperate
chance to trust to the faith and honesty of two such vagabonds; but, as the
horses would have, at all events, to be abandoned, and would otherwise
become the property of the first vagrant horde that should encounter them,
it was one chance in favor of their being regained.

At this place another detachment of hunters prepared to separate from the

party for the purpose of trapping beaver. Three of these had already been in
this neighborhood, being the veteran Robinson and his companions,
Hoback and Rezner, who had accompanied Mr.Henry across the mountains,
and who had been picked up by Mr. Hunt on the Missouri, on their way
home to Kentucky. According to agreement they were fitted out with
horses, traps, ammunition, and everything requisite for their undertaking,
and were to bring in all the peltries they should collect, either to this trading
post, or to the establishment at the mouth of Columbia River. Another
hunter, of the name of Cass, was associated with them in their enterprise. It
is in this way that small knots of trappers and hunters are distributed about
the wilderness by the fur companies, and like cranes and bitterns, haunt its
solitary streams. Robinson, the Kentuckian, the veteran of the "bloody
ground," who, as has already been noted, had been scalped by the Indians
in his younger days, was the leader of this little band. When they were
about to depart , Mr. Miller called the partners together and threw up his
share in the company, declaring his intention of joining the party of
trappers.
CHAPTER XXXI. 229

This resolution struck every one with astonishment, Mr. Miller being a man
of education and of cultivated habits, and little fitted for the rude life of a
hunter. Besides, the precarious and slender profits arising from such a life
were beneath the prospects of one who held a share in the general
enterprise. Mr. Hunt was especially concerned and mortified at his
determination, as it was through his advice and influence he had entered
into the concern. He endeavored, therefore, to dissuade him from this
sudden resolution; representing its rashness, and the hardships and perils to
which it would expose him. He earnestly advised him, however he might
feel dissatisfied with the enterprise, still to continue on in company until
they should reach the mouth of Columbia River. There they would meet the
expedition that was to come by sea; when, should he still feel disposed to
relinquish the undertaking, Mr. Hunt pledged himself to furnish him a
passage home in one of the vessels belonging to the company.

To all this Miller replied abruptly, that it was useless to argue with him, as
his mind was made up. They might furnish him, or not, as they pleased,
with the necessary supplies, but he was determined to part company here,
and set off with the trappers. So saying, he flung out of their presence
without vouchsafing any further conversation.

Much as this wayward conduct gave them anxiety, the partners saw it was
in vain to remonstrate. Every attention was paid to fit him out for his
headstrong undertaking. He was provided with four horses, and all the
articles he required. The two Snakes undertook to conduct him and his
companions to an encampment of their tribe, lower down among the
mountains, from whom they would receive information as to the trapping
grounds. After thus guiding them, the Snakes were to return to Fort Henry,
as the new trading post was called, and take charge of the horses which the
party would leave there, of which, after all the hunters were supplied, there
remained seventy−seven. These matters being all arranged, Mr. Miller set
out with his companions, under guidance of the two Snakes, on the 10th of
October; and much did it grieve the friends of that gentleman to see him
thus wantonly casting himself loose upon savage life. How he and his
comrades fared in the wilderness, and how the Snakes acquitted themselves
of their trust respecting the horses, will hereafter appear in the course of
CHAPTER XXXII. 230

these rambling anecdotes.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Scanty Fare.− A Mendicant Snake.− Embarkation on Henry River− Joy of

the Voyageurs.−Arrival at Snake River.− Rapids and Breakers. −
Beginning of Misfortunes.− Snake Encampments.− Parley With a Savage.−
A Second Disaster. − Loss of a Boatman.− The Caldron Linn.

WHILE the canoes were in preparation, the hunters ranged about the
neighborhood, but with little success. Tracks of buffaloes were to be seen
in all directions, but none of a fresh date. There were some elk, but
extremely wild; two only were killed. Antelopes were likewise seen, but
too shy and fleet to be approached. A few beavers were taken every night,
and salmon trout of a small size, so that the camp had principally to subsist
upon dried buffalo meat.

On the 14th, a poor, half−naked Snake Indian, one of that forlorn caste
called the Shuckers, or Diggers, made his appearance at the camp. He came
from some lurking−place among the rocks and cliffs, and presented a
picture of that famishing wretchedness to which these lonely fugitives
among the mountains are sometimes reduced. Having received wherewithal
to allay his hunger, he disappeared, but in the course of a day or two
returned to the camp, bringing with him his son, a miserable boy, still more
naked and forlorn than himself. Food was given to both; they skulked about
the camp like hungry hounds, seeking what they might devour, and having
gathered up the feet and entrails of some beavers that were lying about,
slunk off with them to their den among the rocks.

By the 18th of October, fifteen canoes were completed, and on the

following day the party embarked with their effects; leaving their horses
grazing about the banks, and trusting to the honesty of the two Snakes, and
some special turn of good luck for their future recovery.
CHAPTER XXXII. 231

The current bore them along at a rapid rate; the light spirits of the Canadian
voyageurs, which had occasionally flagged upon land, rose to their
accustomed buoyancy on finding themselves again upon the water. They
wielded their paddles with their wonted dexterity, and for the first time
made the mountains echo with their favorite boat songs.

In the course of the day the little squadron arrived at the confluence of
Henry and Mad Rivers, which, thus united, swelled into a beautiful stream
of a light pea−green color, navigable for boats of any size, and which, from
the place of junction, took the name of Snake River, a stream doomed to be
the scene of much disaster to the travellers. The banks were here and there
fringed with willow thickets and small cotton−wood trees. The weather was
cold, and it snowed all day, and great flocks of ducks and geese, sporting in
the water or streaming through the air, gave token that winter was at hand;
yet the hearts of the travellers were light, and, as they glided down the little
river, they flattered themselves with the hope of soon reaching the
Columbia. After making thirty miles in a southerly direction, they
encamped for the night in a neighborhood which required some little
vigilance, as there were recent traces of grizzly bears among the thickets.

On the following day the river increased in width and beauty; flowing
parallel to a range of mountains on the left, which at times were finely
reflected in its light green waters. The three snowy summits of the Pilot
Knobs or Tetons were still seen towering in the distance. After pursuing a
swift but placid course for twenty miles, the current began to foam and
brawl, and assume the wild and broken character common to the streams
west of the Rocky Mountains. In fact the rivers which flow from those
mountains to the Pacific are essentially different from those which traverse
the prairies on their eastern declivities. The latter, though sometimes
boisterous, are generally free from obstructions, and easily navigated; but
the rivers to the west of the mountains descend more steeply and
impetuously, and are continually liable to cascades and rapids. The latter
abounded in the part of the river which the travellers were now descending.
Two of the canoes filled among the breakers; the crews were saved, but
much of the lading was lost or damaged, and one of the canoes drifted
down the stream and was broken among the rocks.
CHAPTER XXXII. 232

On the following day, October 21st, they made but a short distance when
they came to a dangerous strait, where the river was compressed for nearly
half a mile between perpendicular rocks, reducing it to the width of twenty
yards, and increasing its violence. Here they were obliged to pass the
canoes down cautiously by a line from the impending banks. This
consumed a great part of a day; and after they had reembarked they were
soon again impeded by rapids, when they had to unload their canoes and
carry them and their cargoes for some distance by land. It is at these places,
called "portages," that the Canadian voyageur exhibits his most valuable
qualities; carrying heavy burdens, and toiling to and fro, on land and in the
water, over rocks and precipices, among brakes and brambles, not only
without a murmur, but with the greatest cheerfulness and alacrity, joking
and laughing and singing scraps of old French ditties.

The spirits of the party, however, which had been elated on first varying
their journeying from land to water, had now lost some of their buoyancy.
Everything ahead was wrapped in uncertainty. They knew nothing of the
river on which they were floating. It had never been navigated by a white
man, nor could they meet with an Indian to give them any information
concerning it. It kept on its course through a vast wilderness of silent and
apparently uninhabited mountains, without a savage wigwam upon its
banks, or bark upon its waters. The difficulties and perils they had already
passed made them apprehend others before them, that might effectually bar
their progress. As they glided onward, however, they regained heart and
hope. The current continued to be strong; but it was steady, and though they
met with frequent rapids, none of them were bad. Mountains were
constantly to be seen in different directions, but sometimes the swift river
glided through prairies, and was bordered by small cotton−wood trees and
willows. These prairies at certain seasons are ranged by migratory herds of
the wide−wandering buffalo, the tracks of which, though not of recent date,
were frequently to be seen. Here, too, were to be found the prickly pear or
Indian fig, a plant which loves a more southern climate. On the land were
large flights of magpies and American robins; whole fleets of ducks and
geese navigated the river, or flew off in long streaming files at the approach
of the canoes; while the frequent establishments of the painstaking and
quiet−loving beaver showed that the solitude of these waters was rarely
CHAPTER XXXII. 233

disturbed, even by the all−pervading savage.

They had now come near two hundred and eighty miles since leaving Fort
Henry, yet without seeing a human being, or a human habitation; a wild and
desert solitude extended on either side of the river, apparently almost
destitute of animal life. At length, on the 24th of October, they were
gladdened by the sight of some savage tents, and hastened to land and visit
them, for they were anxious to procure information to guide them on their
route. On their approach, however, the savages fled in consternation. They
proved to be a wandering band of Shoshonies. In their tents were great
quantities of small fish about two inches long, together with roots and
seeds, or grain, which they were drying for winter provisions. They
appeared to be destitute of tools of any kind, yet there were bows and
arrows very well made; the former were formed of pine, cedar, or bone,
strengthened by sinews, and the latter of the wood of rosebushes, and other
crooked plants, but carefully straightened, and tipped with stone of a
bottle−green color.

There were also vessels of willow and grass, so closely wrought as to hold
water, and a seine neatly made with meshes, in the ordinary manner, of the
fibres of wild flax or nettle. The humble effects of the poor savages
remained unmolested by their visitors, and a few small articles, with a knife
or two, were left in the camp, and were no doubt regarded as invaluable
prizes.

Shortly after leaving this deserted camp, and reembarking in the canoes, the
travellers met with three of the Snakes on a triangular raft made of flags or
reeds; such was their rude mode of navigating the river. They were entirely
naked excepting small mantles of hare skins over their shoulders. The
canoes approached near enough to gain a full view of them, but they were
not to be brought to a parley.

All further progress for the day was barred by a fall in the river of about
thirty feet perpendicular; at the head of which the party encamped for the
night.
CHAPTER XXXII. 234

The next day was one of excessive toil and but little progress: the river
winding through a wild rocky country, and being interrupted by frequent
rapids, among which the canoes were in great peril. On the succeeding day
they again visited a camp of wandering Snakes, but the inhabitants fled
with terror at the sight of a fleet of canoes, filled with white men, coming
down their solitary river.

As Mr. Hunt was extremely anxious to gain information concerning his

route, he endeavored by all kinds of friendly signs to entice back the
fugitives. At length one, who was on horseback, ventured back with fear
and trembling. He was better clad, and in better condition, than most of his
vagrant tribe that Mr. Hunt had yet seen. The chief object of his return
appeared to be to intercede for a quantity of dried meat and salmon trout,
which he had left behind; on which, probably, he depended for his winter's
subsistence. The poor wretch approached with hesitation, the alternate
dread of famine and of white men operating upon his mind. He made the
most abject signs, imploring Mr. Hunt not to carry off his food. The latter
tried in every way to reassure him, and offered him knives in exchange for
his provisions; great as was the temptation, the poor Snake could only
prevail upon himself to spare a part; keeping a feverish watch over the rest,
lest it should be taken away. It was in vain Mr. Hunt made inquiries of him
concerning his route, and the course of the river. The Indian was too much
frightened and bewildered to comprehend him or to reply; he did nothing
but alternately commend himself to the protection of the Good Spirit, and
supplicate Mr. Hunt not to take away his fish and buffalo meat; and in this
state they left him, trembling about his treasures.

In the course of that and the next day they made nearly eight miles; the
river inclined to the south of west, and being clear and beautiful, nearly half
a mile in width, with many populous communities of the beaver along its
banks. The 28th of October, however, was a day of disaster. The river again
became rough and impetuous, and was chafed and broken by numerous
rapids. These grew more and more dangerous, and the utmost skill was
required to steer among them. Mr. Crooks was seated in the second canoe
of the squadron, and had an old experienced Canadian for steersman,
named Antoine Clappine, one of the most valuable of the voyageurs. The
CHAPTER XXXIII. 235

leading canoe had glided safely among the turbulent and roaring surges, but
in following it, Mr. Crooks perceived that his canoe was bearing towards a
rock. He called out to the steersman, but his warning voice was either
unheard or unheeded. In the next moment they struck upon the rock. The
canoe was split and overturned. There were five persons on board. Mr.
Crooks and one of his companions were thrown amidst roaring breakers
and a whirling current, but succeeded, by strong swimming, to reach the
shore. Clappine and two others clung to the shattered bark, and drifted with
it to a rock. The wreck struck the rock with one end, and swinging round,
flung poor Clappine off into the raging stream, which swept him away, and
he perished. His comrades succeeded in getting upon the rock, from
whence they were afterwards taken off.

This disastrous event brought the whole squadron to a halt, and struck a
chill into every bosom. Indeed they had arrived at a terrific strait, that
forbade all further progress in the canoes, and dismayed the most
experienced voyageur. The whole body of the river was compressed into a
space of less than thirty feet in width, between two ledges of rocks,
upwards of two hundred feet high, and formed a whirling and tumultuous
vortex, so frightfully agitated as to receive the name of "The Caldron Linn."
Beyond this fearful abyss, the river kept raging and roaring on, until lost to
sight among impending precipices.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Gloomy Council.−Exploring Parties− Discouraging Reports− Disastrous

Experiment.− Detachments in Quest of Succor.− Caches, How Made.
−Return of One of the Detachments− Unsuccessful.− Further
Disappointments− The Devil's Scuttle Hole

MR. HUNT and his companions encamped upon the borders of the Caldron
Linn, and held gloomy counsel as to their future course. The recent wreck
had dismayed even the voyageurs, and the fate of their popular comrade,
Clappine, one of the most adroit and experienced of their fraternity, had
struck sorrow to their hearts, for with all their levity, these thoughtless
CHAPTER XXXIII. 236

beings have great kindness towards each other.

The whole distance they had navigated since leaving Henry's Fort was
computed to be about three hundred and forty miles; strong apprehensions
were now entertained that the tremendous impediments before them would
oblige them to abandon their canoes. It was determined to send exploring
parties on each side of the river to ascertain whether it was possible to
navigate it further. Accordingly, on the following morning, three men were
despatched along the south bank, while Mr. Hunt and three others
proceeded along the north. The two parties returned after a weary scramble
among swamps, rocks, and precipices, and with very disheartening
accounts. For nearly forty miles that they had explored, the river foamed
and roared along through a deep and narrow channel, from twenty to thirty
yards wide, which it had worn, in the course of ages, through the heart of a
barren, rocky country. The precipices on each side were often two and three
hundred feet high, sometimes perpendicular, and sometimes overhanging,
so that it was impossible, excepting in one or two places, to get down to the
margin of the stream. This dreary strait was rendered the more dangerous
by frequent rapids, and occasionally perpendicular falls from ten to forty
feet in height; so that it seemed almost hopeless to attempt to pass the
canoes down it. The party, however, who had explored the south side of the
river, had found a place, about six miles from the camp, where they thought
it possible the canoes might be carried down the bank and launched upon
the stream, and from whence they might make their way with the aid of
occasional portages. Four of the best canoes were accordingly selected for
the experiment, and were transported to the place on the shoulders of
sixteen of the men. At the same time Mr. Reed, the clerk, and three men
were detached to explore the river still further down than the previous
scouting parties had been, and at the same time to look out for Indians,
from whom provisions might be obtained, and a supply of horses, should it
be found necessary to proceed by land.

The party who had been sent with the canoes returned on the following day,
weary and dejected. One of the canoes had been swept away with all the
weapons and effects of four of the voyageurs, in attempting to pass it down
a rapid by means of a line. The other three had stuck fast among the rocks,
CHAPTER XXXIII. 237

so that it was impossible to move them; the men returned, therefore, in

despair, and declared the river unnavigable.

The situation of the unfortunate travellers was now gloomy in the extreme.
They were in the heart of an unknown wilderness, untraversed as yet by a
white man. They were at a loss what route to take, and how far they were
from the ultimate place of their destination, nor could they meet in these
uninhabited wilds with any human being to give them information. The
repeated accidents to their canoes had reduced their stock of provisions to
five days' allowance, and there was now every appearance of soon having
famine added to their other sufferings.

This last circumstance rendered it more perilous to keep together than to

separate. Accordingly, after a little anxious but bewildered counsel, it was
determined that several small detachments should start off in different
directions, headed by the several partners. Should any of them succeed in
falling in with friendly Indians, within a reasonable distance, and obtaining
a supply of provisions and horses, they were to return to the aid of the main
body: otherwise they were to shift for themselves, and shape their course
according to circumstances; keeping the mouth of the Columbia River as
the ultimate point of their wayfaring. Accordingly, three several parties set
off from the camp at Caldron Linn, in opposite directions. Mr. M'Lellan,
with three men, kept down along the bank of the river. Mr. Crooks, with
five others, turned their steps up it; retracing by land the weary course they
had made by water, intending, should they not find relief nearer at hand, to
keep on until they should reach Henry's Fort, where they hoped to find the
horses they had left there, and to return with them to the main body.

The third party, composed of five men, was headed by Mr. M'Kenzie, who
struck to the northward, across the desert plains, in hopes of coming upon
the main stream of the Columbia.

Having seen these three adventurous bands depart upon their forlorn
expeditions, Mr. Hunt turned his thoughts to provide for the subsistence of
the main body left to his charge, and to prepare for their future march.
There remained with him thirty− one men, besides the squaw and two
CHAPTER XXXIII. 238

children of Pierre Dorion. There was no game to be met with in the

neighborhood; but beavers were occasionally trapped about the river banks,
which afforded a scanty supply of food; in the meantime they comforted
themselves that some one or other of the foraging detachments would be
successful, and return with relief.

Mr. Hunt now set to work with all diligence, to prepare caches, in which to
deposit the baggage and merchandise, of which it would be necessary to
disburden themselves, preparatory to their weary march by land: and here
we shall give a brief description of those contrivances, so noted in the
wilderness.

A cache is a term common among traders and hunters, to designate a

hiding−place for provisions and effects. It is derived from the French word
"cacher", to conceal, and originated among the early colonists of Canada
and Louisiana; but the secret depository which it designates was in use
among the aboriginals long before the intrusion of the white men. It is, in
fact, the only mode that migratory hordes have of preserving their valuables
from robbery, during their long absences from their villages or accustomed
haunts, on hunting expeditions, or during the vicissitudes of war. The
utmost skill and caution are required to render these places of concealment
invisible to the lynx eye of an Indian. The first care is to seek out a proper
situation, which is generally some dry, low, bank of clay, on the margin of
a water−course. As soon as the precise spot is pitched upon, blankets,
saddle−cloths, and other coverings are spread over the surrounding grass
and bushes, to prevent foot−tracks, or any other derangement; and as few
hands as possible are employed. A circle of about two feet in diameter is
then nicely cut in the sod, which is carefully removed, with the loose soil
immediately beneath it, and laid aside in a place where it will be safe from
anything that may change its appearance. The uncovered area is then
digged perpendicularly to the depth of about three feet, and is then
gradually widened so as to form a conical chamber six or seven feet deep.
The whole of the earth displaced by this process, being of a different color
from that an the surface, is handed up in a vessel, and heaped into a skin or
cloth, in which it is conveyed to the stream and thrown into the midst of the
current, that it may be entirely carried off. Should the cache not be formed
CHAPTER XXXIII. 239

in the vicinity of a stream, the earth thus thrown up is carried to a distance,

and scattered in such manner as not to leave the minutest trace. The cave,
being formed, is well lined with dry grass, bark, sticks, and poles, and
occasionally a dried hide. The property intended to be hidden is then laid
in, after having been well aired: a hide is spread over it, and dried grass,
brush, and stones thrown in, and trampled down until the pit is filled to the
neck. The loose soil which had been put aside is then brought and rammed
down firmly, to prevent its caving in, and is frequently sprinkled with
water, to destroy the scent, lest the wolves and bears should be attracted to
the place, and root up the concealed treasure. When the neck of the cache is
nearly level with the surrounding surface, the sod is again fitted in with the
utmost exactness, and any bushes, stocks, or stones, that may have
originally been about the spot, are restored to their former places. The
blankets and other coverings are then removed from the surrounding
herbage; all tracks are obliterated; the grass is gently raised by the hand to
its natural position, and the minutest chip or straw is scrupulously gleaned
up and thrown into the stream. After all this is done, the place is abandoned
for the night, and, if all be right next morning, is not visited again, until
there be a necessity for reopening the cache. Four men are sufficient, in this
way, to conceal the amount of three tons weight of merchandise in the
course of two days. Nine caches were required to contain the goods and
baggage which Mr. Hunt found it necessary to leave at this place.

Three days had been thus employed since the departure of the several
detachments, when that of Mr. Crooks unexpectedly made its appearance.
A momentary joy was diffused through the camp, for they supposed succor
to be at hand. It was soon dispelled. Mr. Crooks and his companions had
been completely disheartened by this retrograde march through a bleak and
barren country; and had found, computing from their progress and the
accumulating difficulties besetting every step, that it would be impossible
to reach Henry's Fort and return to the main body in the course of the
winter. They had determined, therefore, to rejoin their comrades, and share
their lot.

One avenue of hope was thus closed upon the anxious sojourners at the
Caldron Linn; their main expectation of relief was now from the two parties
CHAPTER XXXIV. 240

under Reed and M'Lellan, which had proceeded down the river; for, as to
Mr. M'Kenzie's detachment, which had struck across the plains, they
thought it would have sufficient difficulty in struggling forward through the
trackless wilderness. For five days they continued to support themselves by
trapping and fishing. Some fish of tolerable size were speared at night by
the light of cedar torches; others, that were very small, were caught in nets
with fine meshes. The product of their fishing, however, was very scanty.
Their trapping was also precarious; and the tails and bellies of the beavers
were dried and put by for the journey.

At length two of the companions of Mr. Reed returned, and were hailed
with the most anxious eagerness. Their report served but to increase the
general despondency. They had followed Mr. Reed for some distance
below the point to which Mr. Hunt had explored, but had met with no
Indians from whom to obtain information and relief. The river still
presented the same furious aspect, brawling and boiling along a narrow and
rugged channel, between rocks that rose like walls.

A lingering hope, which had been indulged by some of the party, of

proceeding by water, was now finally given up: the long and terrific strait
of the river set all further progress at defiance, and in their disgust at the
place, and their vexation at the disasters sustained there, they gave it the
indignant, though not very decorous, appellation of the Devil's Scuttle
Hole.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Determination of the Party to Proceed on Foot.− Dreary Deserts Between

Snake River and the Columbia.− Distribution of Effects Preparatory to a
March− Division of the Party.− Rugged March Along the River.−Wild and
Broken Scenery.− Shoshonies.− Alarm of a Snake Encampment−
Intercourse with the Snakes.− Horse Dealing. − Value of a Tin Kettle.−
Sufferings From Thirst− A Horse Reclaimed. −Fortitude of an Indian
Woman.− Scarcity of Food.− Dog's Flesh a Dainty.−News of Mr. Crooks
and His Party.−Painful Travelling Among the Mountains.− Snow Storms.−
CHAPTER XXXIV. 241

A Dreary Mountain Prospect. −A Bivouac During a Wintry Night.− Return

to the River Bank.

THE resolution of Mr. Hunt and his companions was now taken to set out
immediately on foot. As to the other detachments that had in a manner gone
forth to seek their fortunes, there was little chance of their return; they
would probably make their own way through the wilderness. At any rate, to
linger in the vague hope of relief from them would be to run the risk of
perishing with hunger. Besides, the winter was rapidly advancing, and they
had a long journey to make through an unknown country, where all kinds
of perils might await them. They were yet, in fact, a thousand miles from
Astoria, but the distance was unknown to them at the time: everything
before and around them was vague and conjectural, and wore an aspect
calculated to inspire despondency.

In abandoning the river, they would have to launch forth upon vast
trackless plains destitute of all means of subsistence, where they might
perish of hunger and thirst. A dreary desert of sand and gravel extends from
Snake River almost to the Columbia. Here and there is a thin and scanty
herbage, insufficient for the pasturage of horse or buffalo. Indeed, these
treeless wastes between the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific are even
more desolate and barren than the naked, upper prairies on the Atlantic
side; they present vast desert tracts that must ever defy cultivation, and
interpose dreary and thirsty wilds between the habitations of man, in
traversing which the wanderer will often be in danger of perishing.

Seeing the hopeless character of these wastes, Mr. Hunt and his
companions determined to keep along the course of the river, where they
would always have water at hand, and would be able occasionally to
procure fish and beaver, and might perchance meet with Indians, from
whom they could obtain provisions.

They now made their final preparations for the march. All their remaining
stock of provisions consisted of forty pounds of Indian corn, twenty pounds
of grease, about five pounds of portable soup, and a sufficient quantity of
dried meat to allow each man a pittance of five pounds and a quarter, to be
CHAPTER XXXIV. 242

reserved for emergencies. This being properly distributed, they deposited

all their goods and superfluous articles in the caches, taking nothing with
them but what was indispensable to the journey. With all their
management, each man had to carry twenty pounds' weight besides his own
articles and equipments.

That they might have the better chance of procuring subsistence in the
scanty region they were to traverse, they divided their party into two bands.
Mr. Hunt, with eighteen men, besides Pierre Dorion and his family, was to
proceed down the north side of the river, while Mr. Crooks, with eighteen
men, kept along the south side.

On the morning of the 9th of October, the two parties separated and set
forth on their several courses. Mr. Hunt and his companions followed along
the right bank of the river, which made its way far below them, brawling at
the foot of perpendicular precipices of solid rock, two and three hundred
feet high. For twenty−eight miles that they travelled this day, they found it
impossible to get down to the margin of the stream. At the end of this
distance they encamped for the night at a place which admitted a
scrambling descent. It was with the greatest difficulty, however, that they
succeeded in getting up a kettle of water from the river for the use of the
camp. As some rain had fallen in the afternoon, they passed the night under
the shelter of the rocks.

The next day they continued thirty−two miles to the northwest, keeping
along the river, which still ran in its deep−cut channel. Here and there a
shady beach or a narrow strip of soil, fringed with dwarf willows, would
extend for a little distance along the foot of the cliffs, and sometimes a
reach of still water would intervene like a smooth mirror between the
foaming rapids.

As through the preceding day, they journeyed on without finding, except in

one instance, any place where they could get down to the river's edge, and
they were fain to allay the thirst caused by hard travelling, with the water
collected in the hollow of the rocks.
CHAPTER XXXIV. 243

In the course of their march on the following morning, they fell into a
beaten horse path leading along the river, which showed that they were in
the neighborhood of some Indian village or encampment. They had not
proceeded far along it, when they met with two Shoshonies, or Snakes.
They approached with some appearance of uneasiness, and accosting Mr.
Hunt, held up a knife, which by signs they let him know they had received
from some of the white men of the advance parties. It was with some
difficulties that Mr. Hunt prevailed upon one of the savages to conduct him
to the lodges of his people. Striking into a trail or path which led up from
the river, he guided them for some distance in the prairie, until they came in
sight of a number of lodges made of straw, and shaped like hay−stacks.
Their approach, as on former occasions, caused the wildest affright among
the inhabitants. The women hid such of their children as were too large to
be carried, and too small to take care of themselves, under straw, and,
clasping their infants to their breasts, fled across the prairie. The men
awaited the approach of the strangers, but evidently in great alarm.

Mr. Hunt entered the lodges, and, as he was looking about, observed where
the children were concealed; their black eyes glistening like those of
snakes, from beneath the straw. He lifted up the covering to look at them;
the poor little beings were horribly frightened, and their fathers stood
trembling, as if a beast of prey were about to pounce upon their brood.

The friendly manner of Mr. Hunt soon dispelled these apprehensions; he

succeeded in purchasing some excellent dried salmon, and a dog, an animal
much esteemed as food by the natives; and when he returned to the river
one of the Indians accompanied him. He now came to where the lodges
were frequent along the banks, and, after a day's journey of twenty−six
miles to the northwest, encamped in a populous neighborhood. Forty or
fifty of the natives soon visited the camp, conducting themselves in a very
amicable manner. They were well clad, and all had buffalo robes, which
they procured from some of the hunting tribes in exchange for salmon.
Their habitations were very comfortable; each had its pile of wormwood at
the door for fuel, and within was abundance of salmon, some fresh, but the
greater part cured. When the white men visited the lodges, however, the
women and children hid themselves through fear. Among the supplies
CHAPTER XXXIV. 244

obtained here were two dogs, on which our travellers breakfasted, and
found them to be very excellent, well−flavored, and hearty food.

In the course of the three following days they made about sixty− three
miles, generally in a northwest direction. They met with many of the
natives in their straw−built cabins, who received them without alarm.
About their dwellings were immense quantities of the heads and skins of
salmon, the best part of which had been cured, and hidden in the ground.
The women were badly clad; the children worse; their garments were
buffalo robes, or the skins of foxes, hares, and badgers, and sometimes the
skins of ducks, sewed together, with the plumage on. Most of the skins
must have been procured by traffic with other tribes, or in distant hunting
excursions, for the naked prairies in the neighborhood afforded few
animals, excepting horses, which were abundant. There were signs of
buffaloes having been there, but a long time before.

On the 15th of November they made twenty−eight miles along the river,
which was entirely free from rapids. The shores were lined with dead
salmon, which tainted the whole atmosphere. The natives whom they met
spoke of Mr. Reed's party having passed through that neighborhood. In the
course of the day Mr. Hunt saw a few horses, but the owners of them took
care to hurry them out of the way. All the provisions they were able to
procure were two dogs and a salmon. On the following day they were still
worse off, having to subsist on parched corn and the remains of their dried
meat. The river this day had resumed its turbulent character, forcing its way
through a narrow channel between steep rocks and down violent rapids.
They made twenty miles over a rugged road, gradually approaching a
mountain in the northwest, covered with snow, which had been in sight for
three days past.

On the 17th they met with several Indians, one of whom had a horse. Mr.
Hunt was extremely desirous of obtaining it as a pack− horse; for the men,
worn down by fatigue and hunger, found the loads of twenty pounds'
weight which they had to carry, daily growing heavier and more galling.
The Indians, however, along this river, were never willing to part with their
horses, having none to spare. The owner of the steed in question seemed
CHAPTER XXXIV. 245

proof against all temptation; article after article of great value in Indian
eyes was offered and refused. The charms of an old tin− kettle, however,
were irresistible, and a bargain was concluded.

A great part of the following morning was consumed in lightening the

packages of the men and arranging the load for the horse. At this
encampment there was no wood for fuel, even the wormwood on which
they had frequently depended having disappeared. For the two last days
they had made thirty miles to the northwest.

On the 19th of November, Mr. Hunt was lucky enough to purchase another
horse for his own use, giving in exchange a tomahawk, a knife, a fire steel,
and some beads and gartering. In an evil hour, however, he took the advice
of the Indians to abandon the river, and follow a road or trail leading into
the prairies. He soon had cause to regret the change. The road led across a
dreary waste, without verdure; and where there was neither fountain, nor
pool, nor running stream. The men now began to experience the torments
of thirst, aggravated by their diet of dried fish. The thirst of the Canadian
voyageurs became so insupportable as to drive them to the most revolting
means of allaying it. For twenty−five miles did they toll on across this
dismal desert, and laid themselves down at night, parched and disconsolate,
beside their wormwood fires; looking forward to still greater sufferings on
the following day. Fortunately it began to rain in the night, to their infinite
relief; the water soon collected in puddles and afforded them delicious
draughts.

Refreshed in this manner, they resumed their wayfaring as soon as the first
streaks of dawn gave light enough for them to see their path. The rain
continued all day, so that they no longer suffered from thirst, but hunger
took its place, for after travelling thirty−three miles they had nothing to sup
on but a little parched corn.

The next day brought them to the banks of a beautiful little stream, running
to the west, and fringed with groves of cottonwood and willow. On its
borders was an Indian camp, with a great many horses grazing around it.
The inhabitants, too, appeared to be better clad than usual. The scene was
CHAPTER XXXIV. 246

altogether a cheering one to the poor half−famished wanderers. They

hastened to their lodges, but on arriving at them met with a check that at
first dampened their cheerfulness. An Indian immediately laid claim to the
horse of Mr. Hunt, saying that it had been stolen from him. There was no
disproving a fact supported by numerous bystanders, and which the horse
stealing habits of the Indians rendered but too probable; so Mr. Hunt
relinquished his steed to the claimant; not being able to retain him by a
second purchase.

At this place they encamped for the night, and made a sumptuous repast
upon fish and a couple of dogs, procured from their Indian neighbors. The
next day they kept along the river, but came to a halt after ten miles' march,
on account of the rain. Here they again got a supply of fish and dogs from
the natives; and two of the men were fortunate enough each to get a horse
in exchange for a buffalo robe. One of these men was Pierre Dorion, the
half− breed interpreter, to whose suffering family the horse was a timely
acquisition. And here we cannot but notice the wonderful patience,
perseverance, and hardihood of the Indian women, as exemplified in the
conduct of the poor squaw of the interpreter. She was now far advanced in
her pregnancy, and had two children to take care of; one four, and the other
two years of age. The latter of course she had frequently to carry on her
back, in addition to the burden usually imposed upon the squaw, yet she
had borne all her hardships without a murmur, and throughout this weary
and painful journey had kept pace with the best of the pedestrians. Indeed
on various occasions in the course of this enterprise, she displayed a force
of character that won the respect and applause of the white men.

Mr. Hunt endeavored to gather some information from these Indians

concerning the country and the course of the rivers. His communications
with them had to be by signs, and a few words which he had learnt, and of
course were extremely vague. All that he could learn from them was that
the great river, the Columbia, was still far distant, but he could ascertain
nothing as to the route he ought to take to arrive at it. For the two following
days they continued westward upwards of forty miles along the little
stream, until they crossed it just before its junction with Snake River, which
they found still running to the north. Before them was a wintry−looking
CHAPTER XXXIV. 247

mountain covered with snow on all sides.

In three days more they made about seventy miles; fording two small
rivers, the waters of which were very cold. Provisions were extremely
scarce; their chief sustenance was portable soup; a meagre diet for weary
pedestrians.

On the 27th of November the river led them into the mountains through a
rocky defile where there was scarcely room to pass. They were frequently
obliged to unload the horses to get them by the narrow places; and
sometimes to wade through the water in getting round rocks and butting
cliffs. All their food this day was a beaver which they had caught the night
before; by evening, the cravings of hunger were so sharp, and the prospect
of any supply among the mountains so faint, that they had to kill one of the
horses. "The men," says Mr. Hunt in his journal, "find the meat very good,
and, indeed, so should I, were it not for the attachment I have to the
animal."

Early the following day, after proceeding ten miles to the north, they came
to two lodges of Shoshonies, who seemed in nearly as great extremity as
themselves, having just killed two horses for food. They had no other
provisions excepting the seed of a weed which they gather in great
quantities, and pound fine. It resembles hemp−seed. Mr. Hunt purchased a
bag of it, and also some small pieces of horse flesh, which he began to
relish, pronouncing them "fat and tender."

From these Indians he received information that several white men had
gone down the river, some one side, and a good many on the other; these
last he concluded to be Mr. Crooks and his party. He was thus released
from much anxiety about their safety, especially as the Indians spoke about
Mr. Crooks having one of his dogs yet, which showed that he and his men
had not been reduced to extremity of hunger.

As Mr. Hunt feared that he might be several days in passing through this
mountain defile, and run the risk of famine, he encamped in the
neighborhood of the Indians, for the purpose of bartering with them for a
CHAPTER XXXIV. 248

horse. The evening was expended in ineffectual trials. He offered a gun, a

buffalo robe, and various other articles. The poor fellows had, probably,
like himself, the fear of starvation before their eyes. At length the women,
learning the object of his pressing solicitations and tempting offers, set up
such a terrible hue and cry that he was fairly howled and scolded from the
ground.

The next morning early, the Indians seemed very desirous to get rid of their
visitors, fearing, probably, for the safety of their horses. In reply to Mr.
Hunt's inquiries about the mountains, they told him that he would have to
sleep but three nights more among them; and that six days' travelling would
take him to the falls of the Columbia; information in which he put no faith,
believing it was only given to induce him to set forward. These, he was
told, were the last Snakes he would meet with, and that he would soon
come to a nation called Sciatogas.

Forward then did he proceed on his tedious journey, which, at every step,
grew more painful. The road continued for two days through narrow
defiles, where they were repeatedly obliged to unload the horses.
Sometimes the river passed through such rocky chasms and under such
steep precipices that they had to leave it, and make their way, with
excessive labor, over immense hills, almost impassable for horses. On some
of these hills were a few pine trees, and their summits were covered with
snow. On the second day of this scramble one of the hunters killed a black−
tailed deer, which afforded the half−starved travellers a sumptuous repast.
Their progress these two days was twenty−eight miles, a little to the
northward of east.

The month of December set in drearily, with rain in the valleys and snow
upon the hills. They had to climb a mountain with snow to the midleg,
which increased their painful toil. A small beaver supplied them with a
scanty meal, which they eked out with frozen blackberries, haws, and
choke−cherries, which they found in the course of their scramble. Their
journey this day, though excessively fatiguing, was but thirteen miles; and
all the next day they had to remain encamped, not being able to see half a
mile ahead, on account of a snow−storm. Having nothing else to eat, they
CHAPTER XXXIV. 249

were compelled to kill another of their horses. The next day they resumed
their march in snow and rain, but with all their efforts could only get
forward nine miles, having for a part of the distance to unload the horses
and carry the packs themselves. On the succeeding morning they were
obliged to leave the river and scramble up the hills. From the summit of
these, they got a wide view of the surrounding country, and it was a
prospect almost sufficient to make them despair. In every direction they
beheld snowy mountains, partially sprinkled with pines and other
evergreens, and spreading a desert and toilsome world around them. The
wind howled over the bleak and wintry landscape, and seemed to penetrate
to the marrow of their bones. They waded on through the snow, which at
every step was more than knee deep.

After tolling in this way all day, they had the mortification to find that they
were but four miles distant from the encampment of the preceding night,
such was the meandering of the river among these dismal hills. Pinched
with famine, exhausted with fatigue, with evening approaching, and a
wintry wild still lengthening as they advanced, they began to look forward
with sad forebodings to the night's exposure upon this frightful waste.
Fortunately they succeeded in reaching a cluster of pines about sunset.
Their axes were immediately at work; they cut down trees, piled them in
great heaps, and soon had huge fires "to cheer their cold and hungry
hearts."

About three o'clock in the morning it again began to snow, and at daybreak
they found themselves, as it were, in a cloud, scarcely being able to
distinguish objects at the distance of a hundred yards. Guarding themselves
by the sound of running water, they set out for the river, and by slipping
and sliding contrived to get down to its bank. One of the horses, missing his
footing, rolled down several hundred yards with his load, but sustained no
injury. The weather in the valley was less rigorous than on the hills. The
snow lay but ankle deep, and there was a quiet rain now falling. After
creeping along for six miles, they encamped on the border of the river.
Being utterly destitute of provisions, they were again compelled to kill one
of their horses to appease their famishing hunger.
CHAPTER XXXV. 250

CHAPTER XXXV.

An Unexpected Meeting.−Navigation in a Skin Canoe.−Strange Fears of

Suffering Men.−Hardships of Mr. Crooks and His Comrades.− Tidings of
MLellan.− A Retrograde March.− A Willow Raft.− Extreme Suffering of
Some of the Party − Illness of Mr. Crooks.− Impatience of Some of the
Men.− Necessity of Leaving the Laggards Behind.

THE wanderers had now accomplished four hundred and seventy−two

miles of their dreary journey since leaving the Caldron Linn; how much
further they had yet to travel, and what hardships to encounter, no one
knew.

On the morning of the 6th of December, they left their dismal encampment,
but had scarcely begun their march when, to their surprise, they beheld a
party of white men coming up along the opposite bank of the river. As they
drew nearer, they were recognized for Mr. Crooks and his companions.
When they came opposite, and could make themselves heard across the
murmuring of the river, their first cry was for food; in fact, they were
almost starved. Mr. Hunt immediately returned to the camp, and had a kind
of canoe made out of the skin of the horse killed on the preceding night.
This was done after the Indian fashion, by drawing up the edges of the skin
with thongs, and keeping them distended by sticks or thwart pieces. In this
frail bark, Sardepie, one of the Canadians, carried over a portion of the
flesh of the horse to the famishing party on the opposite side of the river,
and brought back with him Mr. Crooks and the Canadian, Le Clerc. The
forlorn and wasted looks and starving condition of these two men struck
dismay to the hearts of Mr. Hunt's followers. They had been accustomed to
each other's appearance, and to the gradual operation of hunger and
hardship upon their frames, but the change in the looks of these men, since
last they parted, was a type of the famine and desolation of the land; and
they now began to indulge the horrible presentiment that they would all
starve together, or be reduced to the direful alternative of casting lots!

When Mr. Crooks had appeased his hunger, he gave Mr. Hunt some
account of his wayfaring. On the side of the river along which he had kept,
CHAPTER XXXV. 251

he had met with but few Indians, and those were too miserably poor to
yield much assistance. For the first eighteen days after leaving the Caldron
Linn, he and his men had been confined to half a meal in twenty−four
hours; for three days following, they had subsisted on a single beaver, a few
wild cherries, and the soles of old moccasins; and for the last six days their
only animal food had been the carcass of a dog. They had been three days'
journey further down the river than Mr. Hunt, always keeping as near to its
banks as possible, and frequently climbing over sharp and rocky ridges that
projected into the stream. At length they had arrived to where the
mountains increased in height, and came closer to the river, with
perpendicular precipices, which rendered it impossible to keep along the
stream. The river here rushed with incredible velocity through a defile not
more than thirty yards wide, where cascades and rapids succeeded each
other almost without intermission. Even had the opposite banks, therefore,
been such as to permit a continuance of their journey, it would have been
madness to attempt to pass the tumultuous current either on rafts or
otherwise. Still bent, however, on pushing forward, they attempted to climb
the opposing mountains; and struggled on through the snow for half a day
until, coming to where they could command a prospect, they found that
they were not half way to the summit, and that mountain upon mountain lay
piled beyond them, in wintry desolation. Famished and emaciated as they
were, to continue forward would be to perish; their only chance seemed to
be to regain the river, and retrace their steps up its banks. It was in this
forlorn and retrograde march that they had met Mr. Hunt and his party.

Mr. Crooks also gave information of some others of their fellow

adventurers. He had spoken several days previously with Mr. Reed and Mr.
M'Kenzie, who with their men were on the opposite side of the river, where
it was impossible to get over to them. They informed him that Mr. M'Lellan
had struck across from the little river above the mountains, in the hope of
falling in with some of the tribe of Flatheads, who inhabit the western skirts
of the Rocky range. As the companions of Reed and M'Kenzie were picked
men, and had found provisions more abundant on their side of the river,
they were in better condition, and more fitted to contend with the
difficulties of the country, than those of Mr. Crooks, and when he lost sight
of them, were pushing onward, down the course of the river.
CHAPTER XXXV. 252

Mr. Hunt took a night to revolve over his critical situation, and to determine
what was to be done. No time was to be lost; he had twenty men and more
in his own party, to provide for, and Mr. Crooks and his men to relieve. To
linger would be to starve. The idea of retracing his steps was intolerable,
and, notwithstanding all the discouraging accounts of the ruggedness of the
mountains lower down the river, he would have been disposed to attempt
them, but the depth of the snow with which they were covered deterred
him; having already experienced the impossibility of forcing his way
against such an impediment.

The only alternative, therefore, appeared to be, return and seek the Indian
bands scattered along the small rivers above the mountains. Perhaps, from
some of these he might procure horses enough to support him until he could
reach the Columbia; for he still cherished the hope of arriving at that river
in the course of the winter, though he was apprehensive that few of Mr.
Crooks's party would be sufficiently strong to follow him. Even in adopting
this course, he had to make up his mind to the certainty of several days of
famine at the outset, for it would take that time to reach the last Indian
lodges from which he had parted, and until they should arrive there, his
people would have nothing to subsist upon but haws and wild berries,
excepting one miserable horse, which was little better than skin and bone.

After a night of sleepless cogitation, Mr. Hunt announced to his men the
dreary alternative he had adopted, and preparations were made to take Mr.
Crooks and Le Clerc across the river, with the remainder of the meat, as the
other party were to keep up along the opposite bank. The skin canoe had
unfortunately been lost in the night; a raft was constructed therefore, after
the manner of the natives, of bundles of willows, but it could not be floated
across the impetuous current. The men were directed, in consequence, to
keep on along the river by themselves, while Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc
would proceed with Mr. Hunt. They all, then, took up their retrograde
march with drooping spirits.

In a little while, it was found that Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc were so feeble
as to walk with difficulty, so that Mr. Hunt was obliged to retard his pace,
that they might keep up with him. His men grew impatient at the delay.
CHAPTER XXXV. 253

They murmured that they had a long and desolate region to traverse, before
they could arrive at the point where they might expect to find horses; that it
was impossible for Crooks and Le Clerc, in their feeble condition, to get
over it; that to remain with them would only be to starve in their company.
They importuned Mr. Hunt, therefore, to leave these unfortunate men to
their fate, and think only of the safety of himself and his party. Finding him
not to be moved either by entreaties or their clamors, they began to proceed
without him, singly and in parties. Among those who thus went off was
Pierre Dorion, the interpreter. Pierre owned the only remaining horse;
which was now a mere skeleton. Mr. Hunt had suggested, in their present
extremity, that it should be killed for food; to which the half−breed flatly
refused his assent, and cudgeling the miserable animal forward, pushed on
sullenly, with the air of a man doggedly determined to quarrel for his right.
In this way Mr. Hunt saw his men, one after another, break away, until but
five remained to bear him company.

On the following morning another raft was made, on which Mr. Crooks and
Le Clerc again attempted to ferry themselves across the river, but after
repeated trials had to give up in despair. This caused additional delay; after
which they continued to crawl forward at a snail's pace. Some of the men
who had remained with Mr. Hunt now became impatient of these
incumbrances, and urged him clamorously to push forward, crying out that
they should all starve. The night which succeeded was intensely cold, so
that one of the men was severely frost−bitten. In the course of the night,
Mr. Crooks was taken ill, and in the morning was still more incompetent to
travel. Their situation was now desperate, for their stock of provisions was
reduced to three beaver skins. Mr. Hunt, therefore, resolved to push on,
overtake his people, and insist upon having the horse of Pierre Dorion
sacrificed for the relief of all hands. Accordingly, he left two of his men to
help Crooks and Le Clerc on their way, giving them two of the beaver skins
for their support; the remaining skin he retained, as provision for himself
and the three other men who struck forward with him.
CHAPTER XXXVI. 254

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Mr. Hunt Overtakes the Advance Party.− Pierre Dorion, and His Skeleton
Horse.− A Shoshonie Camp.− A Justifiable Outrage.− Feasting on Horse
Flesh.− Mr. Crooks Brought to the Camp.− Undertakes to Relieve His
Men.− The Skin Ferry−Boat.− Frenzy of Prevost.− His Melancholy
Fate.−Enfeebled State of John Day.−Mr. Crooks Again Left Behind.−The
Party Emerge From Among the Mountains.−Interview With Shoshonies.−A
Guide Procured to Conduct the Party Across a Mountain. −Ferriage Across
Snake River.− Reunion With Mr Crook's Men.− Final Departure From the
River.

ALL that day, Mr. Hunt and his three comrades travelled without eating. At
night they made a tantalizing supper on their beaver skin, and were nearly
exhausted by hunger and cold. The next day, December 10th, they overtook
the advance party, who were all as much famished as themselves, some of
them not having eaten since the morning of the seventh. Mr. Hunt now
proposed the sacrifice of Pierre Dorion's skeleton horse. Here he again met
with positive and vehement opposition from the half−breed, who was too
sullen and vindictive a fellow to be easily dealt with. What was singular,
the men, though suffering such pinching hunger, interfered in favor of the
horse.

They represented that it was better to keep on as long as pos− sible without
resorting to this last resource. Possibly the Indians, of whom they were in
quest, might have shifted their encampment, in which case it would be time
enough to kill the horse to escape starvation. Mr. Hunt, therefore, was
prevailed upon to grant Pierre Dorion's horse a reprieve.

Fortunately, they had not proceeded much further, when, towards evening,
they came in sight of a lodge of Shoshonies, with a number of horses
grazing around it. The sight was as unexpected as it was joyous. Having
seen no Indians in this neighborhood as they passed down the river, they
must have subsequently come out from among the mountains. Mr. Hunt,
who first descried them, checked the eagerness of his companions, knowing
the unwillingness of these Indians to part with their horses, and their
CHAPTER XXXVI. 255

aptness to hurry them off and conceal them, in case of an alarm. This was
no time to risk such a disappointment. Approaching, therefore, stealthily
and silently, they came upon the savages by surprise, who fled in terror.
Five of their horses were eagerly seized, and one was despatched upon the
spot. The carcass was immediately cut up, and a part of it hastily cooked
and ravenously devoured. A man was now sent on horseback with a supply
of the flesh to Mr. Crooks and his companions. He reached them in the
night; they were so famished that the supply sent them seemed but to
aggravate their hunger, and they were almost tempted to kill and eat the
horse that had brought the messenger. Availing themselves of the assistance
of the animal, they reached the camp early in the morning.

On arriving there, Mr. Crooks was shocked to find that, while the people on
this side of the river were amply supplied with provisions, none had been
sent to his own forlorn and famishing men on the opposite bank. He
immediately caused a skin canoe to be constructed, and called out to his
men to fill their camp− kettles with water and hang them over the fire, that
no time might be lost in cooking the meat the moment it should be
received. The river was so narrow, though deep, that everything could be
distinctly heard and seen across it. The kettles were placed on the fire, and
the water was boiling by the time the canoe was completed. When all was
ready, however, no one would undertake to ferry the meat across. A vague
and almost superstitious terror had infected the minds of Mr. Hunt's
followers, enfeebled and rendered imaginative of horrors by the dismal
scenes and sufferings through which they had passed. They regarded the
haggard crew, hovering like spectres of famine on the opposite bank, with
indefinite feelings of awe and apprehension: as if something desperate and
dangerous was to be feared from them.

Mr. Crooks tried in vain to reason or shame them out of this singular state
of mind. He then attempted to navigate the canoe himself, but found his
strength incompetent to brave the impetuous current. The good feelings of
Ben Jones, the Kentuckian, at length overcame his fears, and he ventured
over. The supply he brought was received with trembling avidity. A poor
Canadian, however, named Jean Baptiste Prevost, whom famine had
rendered wild and desperate, ran frantically about the bank, after Jones had
CHAPTER XXXVI. 256

returned, crying out to Mr. Hunt to send the canoe for him, and take him
from that horrible region of famine, declaring that otherwise he would
never march another step, but would lie down there and die.

The canoe was shortly sent over again, under the management of Joseph
Delaunay, with further supplies. Prevost immediately pressed forward to
embark. Delaunay refused to admit him, telling him that there was now a
sufficient supply of meat on his side of the river. He replied that it was not
cooked, and he should starve before it was ready; he implored, therefore, to
be taken where he could get something to appease his hunger immediately.
Finding the canoe putting off without him, he forced himself aboard. As he
drew near the opposite shore, and beheld meat roasting before the fire, he
jumped up, shouted, clapped his hands, and danced in a delirium of joy,
until he upset the canoe. The poor wretch was swept away by the current
and drowned, and it was with extreme difficulty that Delaunay reached the
shore.

Mr. Hunt now sent all his men forward excepting two or three. In the
evening he caused another horse to be killed, and a canoe to be made out of
the skin, in which he sent over a further supply of meat to the opposite
party. The canoe brought back John Day, the Kentucky hunter, who came
to join his former employer and commander, Mr. Crooks. Poor Day, once
so active and vigorous, was now reduced to a condition even more feeble
and emaciated than his companions. Mr. Crooks had such a value for the
man, on account of his past services and faithful character, that he
determined not to quit him; he exhorted Mr. Hunt, however, to proceed
forward, and join the party, as his presence was all important to the conduct
of the expedition. One of the Canadians, Jean Baptiste Dubreuil, likewise
remained with Mr. Crooks.

Mr. Hunt left two horses with them, and a part of the carcass of the last that
had been killed. This, he hoped, would be sufficient to sustain them until
they should reach the Indian encampment.

One of the chief dangers attending the enfeebled condition of Mr. Crooks
and his companions was their being overtaken by the Indians whose horses
CHAPTER XXXVI. 257

had been seized, though Mr. Hunt hoped that he had guarded against any
resentment on the part of the savages, by leaving various articles in their
lodge, more than sufficient to compensate for the outrage he had been
compelled to commit.

Resuming his onward course, Mr. Hunt came up with his people in the
evening. The next day, December 13th, he beheld several Indians, with
three horses, on the opposite side of the river, and after a time came to the
two lodges which he had seen on going down. Here he endeavored in vain
to barter a rifle for a horse, but again succeeded in effecting the purchase
with an old tin kettle, aided by a few beads.

The two succeeding days were cold and stormy; the snow was augmenting,
and there was a good deal of ice running in the river. Their road, however,
was becoming easier; they were getting out of the hills, and finally emerged
into the open country, after twenty days of fatigue, famine, and hardship of
every kind, in the ineffectual attempt to find a passage down the river.

They now encamped on a little willowed stream, running from the east,
which they had crossed on the 26th of November. Here they found a dozen
lodges of Shoshonies, recently arrived, who informed them that had they
persevered along the river, they would have found their difficulties
augment until they became absolutely insurmountable. This intelligence
added to the anxiety of Mr. Hunt for the fate of Mr. M'Kenzie and his
people, who had kept on.

Mr. Hunt now followed up the little river, and encamped at some lodges of
Shoshonies, from whom he procured a couple of horses, a dog, a few dried
fish, and some roots and dried cherries. Two or three days were exhausted
in obtaining information about the route, and what time it would take to get
to the Sciatogas, a hospitable tribe on the west of the mountains,
represented as having many horses. The replies were various, but concurred
in saying that the distance was great, and would occupy from seventeen to
twenty−one nights. Mr. Hunt then tried to procure a guide; but though he
sent to various lodges up and down the river, offering articles of great value
in Indian estimation, no one would venture. The snow, they said, was waist
CHAPTER XXXVI. 258

deep in the mountains; and to all his offers they shook their heads, gave a
shiver, and replied, "we shall freeze! we shall freeze!" at the same time they
urged him to remain and pass the winter among them.

Mr. Hunt was in a dismal dilemma. To attempt the mountains without a

guide would be certain death to him and all his people; to remain there,
after having already been so long on the journey, and at such great expense,
was worse to him, he said, than two "deaths." He now changed his tone
with the Indians, charged them with deceiving him in respect to the
mountains, and talking with a "forked tongue," or, in other words, with
lying. He upbraided them with their want of courage, and told them they
were women, to shrink from the perils of such a journey. At length one of
them, piqued by his taunts, or tempted by his offers, agreed to be his guide;
for which he was to receive a gun, a pistol, three knives, two horses, and a
little of every article in possession of the party; a reward sufficient to make
him one of the wealthiest of his vagabond nation.

Once more, then, on the 21st of December, they set out upon their
wayfaring, with newly excited spirits. Two other Indians accompanied their
guide, who led them immediately back to Snake River, which they
followed down for a short distance, in search of some Indian rafts made of
reeds, on which they might cross. Finding none, Mr. Hunt caused a horse to
be killed, and a canoe to be made out of its skin. Here, on the opposite
bank, they saw the thirteen men of Mr. Crooks's party, who had continued
up along the river. They told Mr. Hunt, across the stream, that they had not
seen Mr. Crooks, and the two men who had remained with him, since the
day that he had separated from them.

The canoe proving too small, another horse was killed, and the skin of it
joined to that of the first. Night came on before the little bark had made
more than two voyages. Being badly made it was taken apart and put
together again, by the light of the fire. The night was cold; the men were
weary and disheartened with such varied and incessant toil and hardship.
They crouched, dull and drooping, around their fires; many of them began
to express a wish to remain where they were for the winter. The very
necessity of crossing the river dismayed some of them in their present
CHAPTER XXXVII 259

enfeebled and dejected state. It was rapid and turbulent, and filled with
floating ice, and they remembered that two of their comrades had already
perished in its waters. Others looked forward with misgivings to the long
and dismal journey through lonesome regions that awaited them, when they
should have passed this dreary flood.

At an early hour of the morning, December 23d, they began to cross the
river. Much ice had formed during the night, and they were obliged to
break it for some distance on each shore. At length they all got over in
safety to the west side; and their spirits rose on having achieved this
perilous passage. Here they were rejoined by the people of Mr. Crooks,
who had with them a horse and a dog, which they had recently procured.
The poor fellows were in the most squalid and emaciated state. Three of
them were so completely prostrated in strength and spirits that they
expressed a wish to remain among the Snakes. Mr. Hunt, therefore, gave
them the canoe, that they might cross the river, and a few articles, with
which to procure necessities, until they should meet with Mr. Crooks.
There was another man, named Michael Carriere, who was almost equally
reduced, but he determined to proceed with his comrades, who were now
incorporated with the party of Mr. Hunt. After the day's exertions they
encamped together on the banks of the river. This was the last night they
were to spend upon its borders. More than eight hundred miles of hard
travelling, and many weary days, had it cost them; and the sufferings
connected with it rendered it hateful in their remembrance, so that the
Canadian voyageurs always spoke of it as "La maudite riviere enragee" −
the accursed mad river − thus coupling a malediction with its name.

CHAPTER XXXVII

Departure From Snake River− Mountains to the North.− Wayworn

Travellers− An Increase of the Dorion Family.− A Camp of Shoshonies.−A
New−Year Festival Among the Snakes.−A Wintry March Through the
Mountains.−A Sunny Prospect, and Milder Climate.− Indian
Horse−Tracks.− Grassy Valleys.− A Camp of Sciatogas.− Joy of the
Travellers.−Dangers of Abundance.−Habits of the Sciatogas.− Fate of
CHAPTER XXXVII 260

Carriere.− The Umatilla.− Arrival at the Banks of the Columbia.−Tidings

of the Scattered Members of the Expedition.− Scenery on the Columbia.−
Tidings of Astoria− Arrival at the Falls.

0N the 24th of December, all things being arranged, Mr. Hunt turned his
back upon the disastrous banks of Snake River, and struck his course
westward for the mountains. His party, being augmented by the late
followers of Mr. Crooks, amounted now to thirty−two white men, three
Indians, and the squaw and two children of Pierre Dorion. Five jaded,
halfstarved horses were laden with their luggage, and, in case of need, were
to furnish them with provisions. They travelled painfully about fourteen
miles a day, over plains and among hills, rendered dreary by occasional
falls of snow and rain. Their only sustenance was a scanty meal of horse
flesh once in four−and−twenty hours.

On the third day the poor Canadian, Carriere, one of the famished party of
Mr. Crooks, gave up in despair, and laying down upon the ground declared
he could go no further. Efforts were made to cheer him up, but it was found
that the poor fellow was absolutely exhausted and could not keep on his
legs. He was mounted, therefore, upon one of the horses, though the forlorn
animal was in little better plight than himself.

On the 28th, they came upon a small stream winding to the north, through a
fine level valley; the mountains receding on each side. Here their Indian
friends pointed out a chain of woody mountains to the left, running north
and south, and covered with snow, over which they would have to pass.
They kept along the valley for twenty−one miles on the 29th, suffering
much from a continued fall of snow and rain, and being twice obliged to
ford the icy stream. Early in the following morning the squaw of Pierre
Dorion, who had hitherto kept on without murmuring or flinching, was
suddenly taken in labor, and enriched her husband with another child. As
the fortitude and good conduct of the poor woman had gained for her the
goodwill of the party, her situation caused concern and perplexity. Pierre,
however, treated the matter as an occurrence that could soon be arranged
and need cause no delay. He remained by his wife in the camp, with his
other children and his horse, and promised soon to rejoin the main body,
CHAPTER XXXVII 261

who proceeded on their march.

Finding that the little river entered the mountains, they abandoned it, and
turned off for a few miles among hills. Here another Canadian, named La
Bonte, gave out, and had to be helped on horseback. As the horse was too
weak to bear both him and his pack, Mr. Hunt took the latter upon his own
shoulders. Thus, with difficulties augmenting at every step, they urged their
toilsome way among the hills, half famished and faint at heart, when they
came to where a fair valley spread out before them, of great extent and
several leagues in width, with a beautiful stream meandering through it. A
genial climate seemed to prevail here, for though the snow lay upon all the
mountains within sight, there was none to be seen in the valley. The
travellers gazed with delight upon this serene, sunny landscape, but their
joy was complete on beholding six lodges of Shoshonies pitched upon the
borders of the stream, with a number of horses and dogs about them. They
all pressed forward with eagerness and soon reached the camp. Here their
first attention was to obtain provisions. A rifle, an old musket, a tomahawk,
a tin kettle, and a small quantity of ammunition soon procured them four
horses, three dogs, and some roots. Part of the live stock was immediately
killed, cooked with all expedition, and as promptly devoured. A hearty
meal restored every one to good spirits. In the course of the following
morning the Dorion family made its reappearance. Pierre came trudging in
the advance, followed by his valued, though skeleton steed, on which was
mounted his squaw with her new−born infant in her arms, and her boy of
two years old wrapped in a blanket and slung at her side. The mother
looked as unconcerned as if nothing had happened to her; so easy is nature
in her operations in the wilderness, when free from the enfeebling
refinements of luxury, and the tamperings and appliances of art.

The next morning ushered in the new year (1812). Mr. Hunt was about to
resume his march, when his men requested permission to celebrate the day.
This was particularly urged by the Canadian voyageurs, with whom
New−Year's day is a favorite festival; and who never willingly give up a
holiday, under any circumstances. There was no resisting such an
application; so the day was passed in repose and revelry; the poor
Canadians contrived to sing and dance in defiance of all their hardships;
CHAPTER XXXVII 262

and there was a sumptuous New−Year's banquet of dog's meat and horse
flesh.

After two days of welcome rest, the travellers addressed themselves once
more to the painful journey. The Indians of the lodges pointed out a distant
gap through which they must pass in traversing the ridge of mountains.
They assured them that they would be but little incommoded by snow, and
in three days would arrive among the Sciatogas. Mr. Hunt, however, had
been so frequently deceived by Indian accounts of routes and distances, that
he gave but little faith to this information.

The travellers continued their course due west for five days, crossing the
valley and entering the mountains. Here the travelling became excessively
toilsome, across rough stony ridges, and amidst fallen trees. They were
often knee deep in snow, and sometimes in the hollows between the ridges
sank up to their waists. The weather was extremely cold; the sky covered
with clouds so that for days they had not a glimpse of the sun. In traversing
the highest ridge they had a wide but chilling prospect over a wilderness of
snowy mountains.

On the 6th of January, however, they had crossed the dividing summit of
the chain, and were evidently under the influence of a milder climate. The
snow began to decrease; the sun once more emerged from the thick canopy
of clouds, and shone cheeringly upon them, and they caught a sight of what
appeared to be a plain, stretching out in the west. They hailed it as the poor
Israelites hailed the first glimpse of the promised land, for they flattered
themselves that this might be the great plain of the Columbia, and that their
painful pilgrimage might be drawing to a close,

It was now five days since they had left the lodges of the Shoshonies,
during which they had come about sixty miles, and their guide assured
them that in the course of the next day they would see the Sciatogas.

On the following morning, therefore, they pushed forward with eagerness,

and soon fell upon a stream which led them through a deep narrow defile,
between stupendous ridges. Here among the rocks and precipices they saw
CHAPTER XXXVII 263

gangs of that mountain−loving animal, the black−tailed deer, and came to

where great tracks of horses were to be seen in all directions, made by the
Indian hunters.

The snow had entirely disappeared, and the hopes of soon coming upon
some Indian encampment induced Mr. Hunt to press on. Many of the men,
however, were so enfeebled that they could not keep up with the main
body, but lagged at intervals behind; and some of them did not arrive at the
night encampment. In the course of this day's march the recently−born
child of Pierre Dorion died.

The march was resumed early the next morning, without waiting for the
stragglers. The stream which they had followed throughout the preceding
day was now swollen by the influx of another river; the declivities of the
hills were green and the valleys were clothed with grass. At length the
jovial cry was given of "an Indian camp!" It was yet in the distance, In the
bosom of the green valley, but they could perceive that it consisted of
numerous lodges, and that hundreds of horses were grazing the grassy
meadows around it. The prospect of abundance of horse flesh diffused
universal joy, for by this time the whole stock of travelling provisions was
reduced to the skeleton steed of Pierre Dorion, and another wretched
animal, equally emaciated, that had been repeatedly reprieved during the
journey.

A forced march soon brought the weary and hungry travellers to the camp.
It proved to be a strong party of Sciatogas and Tusche− pas. There were
thirty−four lodges, comfortably constructed of mats; the Indians, too, were
better clothed than any of the wandering bands they had hitherto met on
this side of the Rocky Mountains. Indeed, they were as well clad as the
generality of the wild hunter tribes. Each had a good buffalo or deer skin
robe; and a deer skin hunting shirt and leggins. Upwards of two thousand
horses were ranging the pastures around their encampment; but what
delighted Mr. Hunt was, on entering the lodges, to behold brass kettles,
axes, copper tea−kettles, and various other articles of civilized
manufacture, which showed that these Indians had an indirect
communication with the people of the sea−coast who traded with the
CHAPTER XXXVII 264

whites. He made eager inquiries of the Sciatogas, and gathered from them
that the great river (the Columbia) was but two days' march distant, and that
several white people had recently descended it; who he hoped might prove
to be M'Lellan, M'Kenzie, and their companions.

It was with the utmost joy and the most profound gratitude to heaven, that
Mr. Hunt found himself and his band of weary and famishing wanderers
thus safely extricated from the most perilous part of their long journey, and
within the prospect of a termination of their tolls. All the stragglers who
had lagged behind arrived, one after another, excepting the poor Canadian
voyageur, Carriere. He had been seen late in the preceding afternoon, riding
behind a Snake Indian, near some lodges of that nation, a few miles distant
from the last night's encampment; and it was expected that he would soon
make his appearance. The first object of Mr. Hunt was to obtain provisions
for his men. A little venison, of an indifferent quality, and some roots were
all that could be procured that evening; but the next day he succeeded in
purchasing a mare and colt, which were immediately killed, and the
cravings of the half−starved people in some degree appeased.

For several days they remained in the neighborhood of these Indians,

reposing after all their hardships, and feasting upon horse flesh and roots,
obtained in subsequent traffic. Many of the people ate to such excess as to
render themselves sick, others were lame from their past journey; but all
gradually recruited in the repose and abundance of the valley. Horses were
obtained here much more readily, and at a cheaper rate, than among the
Snakes. A blanket, a knife, or a half pound of blue beads would purchase a
steed, and at this rate many of the men bought horses for their individual
use.

This tribe of Indians, who are represented as a proud−spirited race, and

uncommonly cleanly, never eat horses or dogs, nor would they permit the
raw flesh of either to be brought into their huts. They had a small quantity
of venison in each lodge, but set so high a price upon it that the white men,
in their impoverished state could not afford to purchase it. They hunted the
deer on horseback, "ringing," or surrounding them, and running them down
in a circle. They were admirable horsemen, and their weapons were bows
CHAPTER XXXVII 265

and arrows, which they managed with great dexterity. They were altogether
primitive in their habits, and seemed to cling to the usages of savage life,
even when possessed of the aids of civilization. They had axes among
them, yet they generally made use of a stone mallet wrought into the shape
of a bottle, and wedges of elk horn, in splitting their wood. Though they
might have two or three brass kettles hanging, in their lodges, yet they
would frequently use vessels made of willow, for carrying water, and
would even boll their meat in them, by means of hot stones. Their women
wore caps of willow neatly worked and figured.

As Carriere, the Canadian straggler, did not make his appearance for two or
three days after the encampment in the valley two men were sent out on
horseback in search of him. They returned, however, without success. The
lodges of the Snake Indians near which he had been seen were removed,
and the could find no trace of him. Several days more elapsed, yet nothing
was seen or heard of him, or the Snake horseman, behind whom he had
been last observed. It was feared, therefore, that he had either perished
through hunger and fatigue; had been murdered by the Indians; or, being
left to himself, had mistaken some hunting tracks for the trail of the party,
and been led astray and lost.

The river on the banks of which they were encamped, emptied into the
Columbia, was called by the natives the Eu−o−tal−la, or Umatilla, and
abounded with beaver. In the course of their sojourn in the valley which it
watered, they twice shifted their camp, proceeding about thirty miles down
its course, which was to the west. A heavy fall of rain caused the river to
overflow its banks, dislodged them from their encampment, and drowned
three of their horses which were tethered in the low ground.

Further conversation with the Indians satisfied them that they were in the
neighborhood of the Columbia. The number of the white men who they
said had passed down the river, agreed with that of M'Lellan, M'Kenzie,
and their companions, and increased the hope of Mr. Hunt that they might
have passed through the wilderness with safety.
CHAPTER XXXVII 266

These Indians had a vague story that white men were coming to trade
among them; and they often spoke of two great men named Ke− Koosh and
Jacquean, who gave them tobacco, and smoked with them. Jacquean, they
said, had a house somewhere upon the great river. Some of the Canadians
supposed they were speaking of one Jacquean Finlay, a clerk of the
Northwest Company, and inferred that the house must be some trading post
on one of the tributary streams of the Columbia. The Indians were
overjoyed when they found this band of white men intended to return and
trade with them. They promised to use all diligence in collecting quantities
of beaver skins, and no doubt proceeded to make deadly war upon that
sagacious, but ill−fated animal, who, in general, lived in peaceful
insignificance among his Indian neighbors, before the intrusion of the white
trader. On the 20th of January, Mr. Hunt took leave of these friendly
Indians, and of the river on which they encamped, and continued westward.

At length, on the following day, the wayworn travellers lifted up their eyes
and beheld before them the long−sought waters of the Columbia. The sight
was hailed with as much transport as if they had already reached the end of
their pilgrimage; nor can we wonder at their joy. Two hundred and forty
miles had they marched, through wintry wastes and rugged mountains,
since leaving Snake River; and six months of perilous wayfaring had they
experienced since their departure from the Arickara village on the Missouri.
Their whole route by land and water from that point had been, according to
their computation, seventeen hundred and fifty−one miles, in the course of
which they had endured all kinds of hardships. In fact, the necessity of
avoiding the dangerous country of the Blackfeet had obliged them to make
a bend to the south and traverse a great additional extent of unknown
wilderness.

The place where they struck the Columbia was some distance below the
junction of its two great branches, Lewis and Clarke rivers, and not far
from the influx of the Wallah−Wallah. It was a beautiful stream,
three−quarters of a mile wide, totally free from trees; bordered in some
places with steep rocks, in others with pebbled shores.
CHAPTER XXXVII 267

On the banks of the Columbia they found a miserable horde of Indians,

called Akai−chies, with no clothing but a scanty mantle of the skins of
animals, and sometimes a pair of sleeves of wolf's skin. Their lodges were
shaped like a tent, and very light and warm, being covered with mats and
rushes; besides which they had excavations in the ground, lined with mats,
and occupied by the women, who were even more slightly clad than the
men. These people subsisted chiefly by fishing; having canoes of a rude
construction, being merely the trunks of pine trees split and hollowed out
by fire. Their lodges were well stored with dried salmon, and they had great
quantities of fresh salmon trout of an excellent flavor, taken at the mouth of
the Umatilla; of which the travellers obtained a most acceptable supply.

Finding that the road was on the north side of the river, Mr. Hunt crossed,
and continued five or six days travelling rather slowly down along its
banks, being much delayed by the straying of the horses, and the attempts
made by the Indians to steal them. They frequently passed lodges, where
they obtained fish and dogs. At one place the natives had just returned from
hunting, and had brought back a large quantity of elk and deer meat, but
asked so high a price for it as to be beyond the funds of the travellers, so
they had to content themselves with dog's flesh. They had by this time,
however, come to consider it very choice food, superior to horse flesh, and
the minutes of the expedition speak rather exultingly now and then, of their
having made a famous "repast," where this viand happened to be unusually
plenty.

They again learnt tidings of some of the scattered members of the

expedition, supposed to be M'Kenzie, M'Lellan, and their men, who had
preceded them down the river, and had overturned one of their canoes, by
which they lost many articles. All these floating pieces of intelligence of
their fellow adventurers, who had separated from them in the heart of the
wilderness, they received with eager interest.

The weather continued to be temperate, marking the superior softness of

the climate on this side of the mountains. For a great part of the time, the
days were delightfully mild and clear, like the serene days of October on
the Atlantic borders. The country in general, in the neighborhood of the
CHAPTER XXXVII 268

river, was a continual plain, low near the water, but rising gradually;
destitute of trees, and almost without shrubs or plants of any kind,
excepting a few willow bushes. After travelling about sixty miles, they
came to where the country became very hilly and the river made its way
between rocky banks and down numerous rapids. The Indians in this
vicinity were better clad and altogether in more prosperous condition than
those above, and, as Mr. Hunt thought, showed their consciousness of ease
by something like sauciness of manner. Thus prosperity is apt to produce
arrogance in savage as well as in civilized life. In both conditions, man is
an animal that will not bear pampering.

From these people Mr. Hunt for the first time received vague but deeply
interesting intelligence of that part of the enterprise which had proceeded
by sea to the mouth of the Columbia. The Indians spoke of a number of
white men who had built a large house at the mouth of the great river, and
surrounded it with palisades. None of them had been down to Astoria
themselves; but rumors spread widely and rapidly from mouth to mouth
among the Indian tribes, and are carried to the heart of the interior by
hunting parties and migratory hordes.

The establishment of a trading emporium at such a point, also, was

calculated to cause a sensation to the most remote parts of the vast
wilderness beyond the mountains. It in a manner struck the pulse of the
great vital river, and vibrated up all its tributary streams.

It is surprising to notice how well this remote tribe of savages had learnt,
through intermediate gossips, the private feelings of the colonists at
Astoria; it shows that Indians are not the incurious and indifferent observers
that they have been represented. They told Mr. Hunt that the white people
at the large house had been looking anxiously for many of their friends,
whom they had expected to descend the great river; and had been in much
affliction, fearing that they were lost. Now, however, the arrival of him and
his party would wipe away all their tears, and they would dance and sing
for joy.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 269

On the 31st of January, Mr. Hunt arrived at the falls of the Columbia, and
encamped at the village of the Wish−ram, situated at the head of that
dangerous pass of the river called "the Long Narrows.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

The Village of Wish−ram.− Roguery of the Inhabitants.− Their

Habitations.− Tidings of Astoria.− Of the Tonquin Massacre.− Thieves
About the Camp.−A Band of Braggarts− Embarkation.− Arrival at
Astoria.−A Joyful Reception.− Old Comrades− Adventures of Reed,
M'Lellan, and M'Kenzie Among the Snake River Mountains.− Rejoicing at
Astoria.

0F the village of Wish−ram, the aborigines' fishing mart of the Columbia,

we have given some account in an early chapter of this work. The
inhabitants held a traffic in the productions of the fisheries of the falls, and
their village was the trading resort of the tribes from the coast and from the
mountains. Mr. Hunt found the inhabitants shrewder and more intelligent
than any Indians he had met with. Trade had sharpened their wits, though it
had not improved their honesty; for they were a community of arrant
rogues and freebooters. Their habitations comported with their
circumstances, and were superior to any the travellers had yet seen west of
the Rocky Mountains. In general, the dwellings of the savages on the
Pacific side of that great barrier were mere tents and cabins of mats, or
skins, or straw, the country being destitute of timber. In Wish−ram, on the
contrary, the houses were built of wood, with long sloping roofs. The floor
was sunk about six feet below the surface of the ground, with a low door at
the gable end, extremely narrow, and partly sunk. Through this it was
necessary to crawl and then to descend a short ladder. This inconvenient
entrance was probably for the purpose of defense; there were loop−holes
also under the eaves, apparently for the discharge of arrows. The houses
were large, generally containing two or three families. Immediately within
the door were sleeping places, ranged along the walls, like berths in a ship;
and furnished with pallets of matting. These extended along one half of the
building; the remaining half was appropriated to the storing of dried fish.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 270

The trading operations of the inhabitants of Wish−ram had given them a

wider scope of information, and rendered their village a kind of
headquarters of intelligence. Mr. Hunt was able, therefore, to collect more
distinct tidings concerning the settlement of Astoria and its affairs. One of
the inhabitants had been at the trading post established by David Stuart on
the Oakinagan, and had picked up a few words of English there. From him,
Mr. Hunt gleaned various particulars about that establishment, as well as
about the general concerns of the enterprise. Others repeated the name of
Mr. M'Kay, the partner who perished in the massacre on board of the
Tonquin, and gave some account of that melancholy affair. They said Mr.
M'Kay was a chief among the white men, and had built a great house at the
mouth of the river, but had left it and sailed away in a large ship to the
northward where he had been attacked by bad Indians in canoes. Mr. Hunt
was startled by this intelligence, and made further inquiries. They informed
him that the Indians had lashed their canoes to the ship, and fought until
they killed him and all his people. This is another instance of the clearness
with which intelligence is transmitted from mouth to mouth among the
Indian tribes. These tidings, though but partially credited by Mr. Hunt,
filled his mind with anxious forebodings. He now endeavored to procure
canoes, in which to descend the Columbia, but none suitable for the
purpose were to be obtained above the Narrows; he continued on, therefore,
the distance of twelve miles, and encamped on the bank of the river. The
camp was soon surrounded by loitering savages, who went prowling about
seeking what they might pilfer. Being baffled by the vigilance of the guard,
they endeavored to compass their ends by other means. Towards evening, a
number of warriors entered the camp in ruffling style; painted and dressed
out as if for battle, and armed with lances, bows and arrows, and scalping
knives. They informed Mr. Hunt that a party of thirty or forty braves were
coming up from a village below to attack the camp and carry off the horses,
but that they were determined to stay with him and defend him. Mr. Hunt
received them with great coldness, and, when they had finished their story,
gave them a pipe to smoke. He then called up all hands, stationed sentinels
in different quarters, but told them to keep as vigilant an eye within the
camp as without.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 271

The warriors were evidently baffled by these precautions, and, having

smoked their pipe, and vapored off their valor, took their departure. The
farce, however, did not end here. After a little while the warriors returned,
ushering in another savage, still more heroically arrayed. This they
announced as the chief of the belligerent village, but as a great pacificator.
His people had been furiously bent upon the attack, and would have
doubtless carried it into effect, but this gallant chief had stood forth as the
friend of white men, and had dispersed the throng by his own authority and
prowess. Having vaunted this signal piece of service, there was a
significant pause; all evidently expecting some adequate reward. Mr. Hunt
again produced the pipe, smoked with the chieftain and his worthy
compeers; but made no further demonstrations of gratitude. They remained
about the camp all night, but at daylight returned, baffled and crestfallen, to
their homes, with nothing but smoke for their pains.

Mr. Hunt now endeavored to procure canoes, of which he saw several about
the neighborhood, extremely well made, with elevated stems and sterns,
some of them capable of carrying three thousand pounds weight. He found
it extremely difficult, however, to deal with these slippery people, who
seemed much more inclined to pilfer. Notwithstanding a strict guard
maintained round the camp, various implements were stolen, and several
horses carried off. Among the latter, we have to include the long−cherished
steed of Pierre Dorion. From some wilful caprice, that worthy pitched his
tent at some distance from the main body, and tethered his invaluable steed
beside it, from whence it was abstracted in the night, to the infinite chagrin
and mortification of the hybrid interpreter.

Having, after several days' negotiation, procured the requisite number of

canoes, Mr. Hunt would gladly have left this thievish neighborhood, but
was detained until the 5th of February by violent head winds, accompanied
by snow and rain. Even after he was enabled to get under way, he had still
to struggle against contrary winds and tempestuous weather. The current of
the river, however, was in his favor; having made a portage at the grand
rapid, the canoes met with no further obstruction, and, on the afternoon of
the 15th of February, swept round an intervening cape, and came in sight of
the infant settlement of Astoria. After eleven months wandering in the
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 272

wilderness, a great part of the time over trackless wastes, where the sight of
a savage wigwam was a rarity, we may imagine the delight of the poor
weatherbeaten travellers, at beholding the embryo establishment, with its
magazines, habitations, and picketed bulwarks, seated on a high point of
land, dominating a beautiful little bay, in which was a trim−built shallop
riding quietly at anchor. A shout of joy burst from each canoe at the
long−wished−for sight. They urged their canoes across the bay, and pulled
with eagerness for shore, where all hands poured down from the settlement
to receive and welcome them. Among the first to greet them on their
landing, were some of their old comrades and fellow−sufferers, who, under
the conduct of Reed, M'Lellan, and M'Kenzie, had parted from them at the
Caldron Linn. These had reached Astoria nearly a month previously, and,
judging from their own narrow escape from starvation, had given up Mr.
Hunt and his followers as lost. Their greeting was the more warm and
cordial. As to the Canadian voyageurs, their mutual felicitations, as usual,
were loud and vociferous, and it was almost ludicrous to behold these
ancient "comrades" and "confreres," hugging and kissing each other on the
river bank.

When the first greetings were over, the different bands interchanged
accounts of their several wanderings, after separating at Snake River; we
shall briefly notice a few of the leading particulars. It will be recollected by
the reader, that a small exploring detachment had proceeded down the river,
under the conduct of Mr. John Reed, a clerk of the company; that another
had set off under M'Lellan, and a third in a different direction, under
M'Kenzie. After wandering for several days without meeting with Indians,
or obtaining any supplies, they came together fortuitously among the Snake
River mountains, some distance below that disastrous pass or strait which
had received the appellation of the Devil's Scuttle Hole.

When thus united, their party consisted of M'Kenzie, M'Lellan, Reed, and
eight men, chiefly Canadians. Being all in the same predicament, without
horses, provisions, or information of any kind, they all agreed that it would
be worse than useless to return to Mr. Hunt and encumber him with so
many starving men, and that their only course was to extricate themselves
as soon as possible from this land of famine and misery and make the best
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 273

of their way for the Columbia. They accordingly continued to follow the
downward course of Snake River; clambering rocks and mountains, and
defying all the difficulties and dangers of that rugged defile, which
subsequently, when the snows had fallen, was found impassable by Messrs.
Hunt and Crooks.

Though constantly near to the borders of the river, and for a great part of
the time within sight of its current, one of their greatest sufferings was
thirst. The river had worn its way in a deep channel through rocky
mountains, destitute of brooks or springs. Its banks were so high and
precipitous, that there was rarely any place where the travellers could get
down to drink of its waters. Frequently they suffered for miles the torments
of Tantalus; water continually within sight, yet fevered with the most
parching thirst. Here and there they met with rainwater collected in the
hollows of the rocks, but more than once they were reduced to the utmost
extremity; and some of the men had recourse to the last expedient to avoid
perishing.

Their sufferings from hunger were equally severe. They could meet with no
game, and subsisted for a time on strips of beaver skin, broiled on the coals.
These were doled out in scanty allowances, barely sufficient to keep up
existence, and at length failed them altogether. Still they crept feebly on,
scarce dragging one limb after another, until a severe snow−storm brought
them to a pause. To struggle against it, in their exhausted condition, was
impossible, so cowering under an impending rock at the foot of a steep
mountain, they prepared themselves for that wretched fate which seemed
inevitable.

At this critical juncture, when famine stared them in the face, M'Lellan
casting up his eyes, beheld an ahsahta, or bighorn, sheltering itself under a
shelving rock on the side of the hill above them. Being in a more active
plight than any of his comrades, and an excellent marksman, he set off to
get within shot of the animal. His companions watched his movements with
breathless anxiety, for their lives depended upon his success. He made a
cautious circuit; scrambled up the hill with the utmost silence, and at length
arrived, unperceived, within a proper distance. Here leveling his rifle he
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 274

took so sure an aim, that the bighorn fell dead on the spot; a fortunate
circumstance, for, to pursue it, if merely wounded, would have been
impossible in his emaciated state. The declivity of the hill enabled him to
roll the carcass down to his companions, who were too feeble to climb the
rocks. They fell to work to cut it up; yet exerted a remarkable self−denial
for men in their starving condition, for they contented themselves for the
present with a soup made from the bones, reserving the flesh for future
repasts. This providential relief gave them strength to pursue their journey,
but they were frequently reduced to almost equal straits, and it was only the
smallness of their party, requiring a small supply of provisions, that enabled
them to get through this desolate region with their lives.

At length, after twenty−one days of to 11 and suffering, they got through

these mountains, and arrived at a tributary stream of that branch of the
Columbia called Lewis River, of which Snake River forms the southern
fork. In this neighborhood they met with wild horses, the first they had seen
west of the Rocky Mountains. From hence they made their way to Lewis
River, where they fell in with a friendly tribe of Indians, who freely
administered to their necessities. On this river they procured two canoes, in
which they dropped down the stream to its confluence with the Columbia,
and then down that river to Astoria, where they arrived haggard and
emaciated, and perfectly in rags.

Thus, all the leading persons of Mr. Hunt's expedition were once more
gathered together, excepting Mr. Crooks, of whose safety they entertained
but little hope, considering the feeble condition in which they had been
compelled to leave him in the heart of the wilderness.

A day was now given up to jubilee, to celebrate the arrival of Mr. Hunt and
his companions, and the joyful meeting of the various scattered bands of
adventurers at Astoria. The colors were hoisted; the guns, great and small,
were fired; there was a feast of fish, of beaver, and venison, which relished
well with men who had so long been glad to revel on horse flesh and dogs'
meat; a genial allowance of grog was issued, to increase the general
animation, and the festivities wound up, as usual, with a grand dance at
night, by the Canadian voyageurs. *
CHAPTER XXXIX. 275

*The distance from St. Louis to Astoria, by the route travelled by Hunt and
M'Kenzie, was upwards of thirty−five hundred miles, though in a direct line
it does not exceed eighteen hundred.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Scanty Fare During the Winter.− A Poor Hunting Ground.− The Return of
the Fishing Season.− The Uthlecan or Smelt.− Its Qualities. − Vast Shoals
of it.− Sturgeon.− Indian Modes of Taking It.− The Salmon− Different
Species.− Nature of the Country About the Coast. −Forests and Forest
Trees.− A Remarkable Flowering Vine.− Animals. − Birds.− Reptiles −
Climate West of the Mountains − Mildness of the Temperature.− Soil of the
Coast and the Interior.

THE winter passed away tranquilly at Astoria. The apprehensions of

hostility from the natives had subsided; indeed, as the season advanced, the
Indians for the most part had disappeared from the neighborhood, and
abandoned the sea−coast, so that, for want of their aid, the colonists had at
times suffered considerably for want of provisions. The hunters belonging
to the establishment made frequent and wide excursions, but with very
moderate success. There were some deer and a few bears to be found in the
vicinity, and elk in great numbers; the country, however, was so rough, and
the woods so close and entangled that it was almost impossible to beat up
the game. The prevalent rains of winter, also, rendered it difficult for the
hunter to keep his arms in order. The quantity of game, therefore, brought
in by the hunters was extremely scanty, and it was frequently necessary to
put all hands on very moderate allowance. Towards spring, however, the
fishing season commenced − the season of plenty on the Columbia. About
the beginning of February, a small kind of fish, about six inches long,
called by the natives the uthlecan, and resembling the smelt, made its
appearance at the mouth of the river. It is said to be of delicious flavor, and
so fat as to burn like a candle, for which it is often used by the natives. It
enters the river in immense shoals, like solid columns, often extending to
the depth of five or more feet, and is scooped up by the natives with small
nets at the end of poles. In this way they will soon fill a canoe, or form a
CHAPTER XXXIX. 276

great heap upon the river banks. These fish constitute a principal article of
their food; the women drying them and stringing them on cords. As the
uthlecan is only found in the lower part of the river, the arrival of it soon
brought back the natives to the coast; who again resorted to the factory to
trade, and from that time furnished plentiful supplies of fish.

The sturgeon makes its appearance in the river shortly after the uthlecan,
and is taken in different ways by the natives: sometimes they spear it; but
oftener they use the hook and line, and the net. Occasionally, they sink a
cord in the river by a heavy weight, with a buoy at the upper end, to keep
floating. To this cord several hooks are attached by short lines, a few feet
distant from each other, and baited with small fish. This apparatus is often
set towards night, and by the next morning several sturgeon will be found
hooked by it; for though a large and strong fish, it makes but little
resistance when ensnared.

The salmon, which are the prime fish of the Columbia, and as important to
the piscatory tribes as are the buffaloes to the hunters of the prairies, do not
enter the river until towards the latter part of May, from which time, until
the middle of August, they abound and are taken in vast quantities, either
with the spear or seine, and mostly in shallow water. An inferior species
succeeds, and continues from August to December. It is remarkable for
having a double row of teeth, half an inch long and extremely sharp, from
whence it has received the name of the dog−toothed salmon. It is generally
killed with the spear in small rivulets, and smoked for winter provision. We
have noticed in a former chapter the mode in which the salmon are taken
and cured at the falls of the Columbia; and put tip in parcels for
exportation. From these different fisheries of the river tribes, the
establishment at Astoria had to derive much of its precarious supplies of
provisions.

A year's residence at the mouth of the Columbia, and various expeditions in

the interior, had now given the Astorians some idea of the country. The
whole coast is described as remarkably rugged and mountainous; with
dense forests of hemlock, spruce, white and red cedar, cotton−wood, white
oak, white and swamp ash, willow, and a few walnut. There is likewise an
CHAPTER XXXIX. 277

undergrowth of aromatic shrubs, creepers, and clambering vines, that

render the forests almost impenetrable; together with berries of various
kinds, such as gooseberries, strawberries, raspberries, both red and yellow,
very large and finely flavored whortleberries, cranberries, serviceberries,
blackberries, currants, sloes, and wild and choke cherries.

Among the flowering vines is one deserving of particular notice. Each

flower is composed of six leaves or petals, about three inches in length, of a
beautiful crimson, the inside spotted with white. Its leaves, of a fine green,
are oval, and disposed by threes. This plant climbs upon the trees without
attaching itself to them; when it has reached the topmost branches, it
descends perpendicularly, and as it continues to grow, extends from tree to
tree, until its various stalks interlace the grove like the rigging of a ship.
The stems or trunks of this vine are tougher and more flexible than willow,
and are from fifty to one hundred fathoms in length. From the fibres, the
Indians manufacture baskets of such close texture as to hold water.

The principal quadrupeds that had been seen by the colonists in their
various expeditions were the stag, fallow deer, hart, black and grizzly bear,
antelope, ahsahta or bighorn, beaver, sea and river otter, muskrat, fox, wolf,
and panther, the latter extremely rare. The only domestic animals among
the natives were horses and dogs.

The country abounded with aquatic and land birds, such as swans, wild
geese, brant, ducks of almost every description, pelicans, herons, gulls,
snipes, curlews, eagles, vultures, crows, ravens, magpies, woodpeckers,
pigeons, partridges, pheasants, grouse, and a great variety of singing birds.

There were few reptiles; the only dangerous kinds were the rattlesnake, and
one striped with black, yellow, and white, about four feet long. Among the
lizard kind was one about nine or ten inches in length, exclusive of the tall,
and three inches in circumference. The tail was round, and of the same
length as the body. The head was triangular, covered with small square
scales. The upper part of the body was likewise covered with small scales,
green, yellow, black, and blue. Each foot had five toes, furnished with
strong nails, probably to aid it in burrowing, as it usually lived under
CHAPTER XXXIX. 278

ground on the plains.

A remarkable fact, characteristic of the country west of the Rocky

Mountains, is the mildness and equability of the climate. The great
mountain barrier seems to divide the continent into different climates, even
in the same degrees of latitude. The rigorous winters and sultry summers,
and all the capricious inequalities of temperature prevalent on the Atlantic
side of the mountains, are but little felt on their western declivities. The
countries between them and the Pacific are blessed with milder and steadier
temperature, resembling the climates of parallel latitudes in Europe. In the
plains and valleys but little snow falls throughout the winter, and usually
melts while falling. It rarely lies on the ground more than two days at a
time, except on the summits of the mountains. The winters are rainy rather
than cold. The rains for five months, from the middle of October to the
middle of March, are almost incessant, and often accompanied by
tremendous thunder and lightning. The winds prevalent at this season are
from the south and southeast, which usually bring rain. Those from the
north to the southwest are the harbingers of fair weather and a clear sky.
The residue of the year, from the middle of March to the middle of
October, an interval of seven months, is serene and delightful. There is
scarcely any rain throughout this time, yet the face of the country is kept
fresh and verdant by nightly dews, and occasionally by humid fogs in the
mornings. These are not considered prejudicial to health, since both the
natives and the whites sleep in the open air with perfect impunity. While
this equable and bland temperature prevails throughout the lower country,
the peaks and ridges of the vast mountains by which it is dominated, are
covered with perpetual snow. This renders them discernible at a great
distance, shining at times like bright summer clouds, at other times
assuming the most aerial tints, and always forming brilliant and striking
features in the vast landscape. The mild temperature prevalent throughout
the country is attributed by some to the succession of winds from the
Pacific Ocean, extending from latitude twenty degrees to at least fifty
degrees north. These temper the heat of summer, so that in the shade no one
is incommoded by perspiration; they also soften the rigors of winter, and
produce such a moderation in the climate, that the inhabitants can wear the
same dress throughout the year.
CHAPTER XL. 279

The soil in the neighborhood of the sea−coast is of a brown color, inclining

to red, and generally poor; being a mixture of clay and gravel. In the
interior, and especially in the valleys of the Rocky Mountains, the soil is
generally blackish, though sometimes yellow. It is frequently mixed with
marl, and with marine substances in a state of decomposition. This kind of
soil extends to a considerable depth, as may be perceived in the deep cuts
made by ravines, and by the beds of rivers. The vegetation in these valleys
is much more abundant than near the coast; in fact, it is these fertile
intervals, locked up between rocky sierras, or scooped out from barren
wastes, that population must extend itself, as it were, in veins and
ramifications, if ever the regions beyond the mountains should become
civilized.

CHAPTER XL.

Natives in the Neighborhood of Astoria− Their Persons and Characteristics.

− Causes of Deformity −− Their Dress. − Their Contempt of Beards−
Ornaments− Armor and Weapons.−Mode of Flattening the Head.− Extent
of the Custom.− Religious Belief.− The Two Great Spirits of the Air and of
the Fire.− Priests or Medicine Men.− The Rival Idols.− Polygamy a Cause
of Greatness− Petty Warfare.− Music, Dancing, Gambling.− Thieving a
Virtue.− Keen Traders− Intrusive Habits − Abhorrence of Drunkenness−
Anecdote of Comcomly.

A BRIEF mention has already been made of the tribes or hordes existing
about the lower part of the Columbia at the time of the settlement; a few
more particulars concerning them may be acceptable. The four tribes
nearest to Astoria, and with whom the traders had most intercourse, were,
as has heretofore been observed, the Chinooks, the Clatsops, the
Wahkiacums, and the Cathlamets. The Chinooks reside chiefly along the
banks of a river of the same name, running parallel to the sea−coast,
through a low country studded with stagnant pools, and emptying itself into
Baker's Bay, a few miles from Cape Disappointment. This was the tribe
over which Comcomly, the one−eyed chieftain, held sway; it boasted two
hundred and fourteen fighting men. Their chief subsistence was on fish,
CHAPTER XL. 280

with an occasional regale of the flesh of elk and deer, and of wild−fowl
from the neighboring ponds.

The Clatsops resided on both sides of Point Adams; they were the mere
relics of a tribe which had been nearly swept off by the small−pox, and did
not number more than one hundred and eighty fighting men.

The Wahkiacums, or Waak−i−cums, inhabited the north side of the

Columbia, and numbered sixty−six warriors. They and the Chinooks were
originally the same; but a dispute arising about two generations previous to
the time of the settlement, between the ruling chief and his brother
Wahkiacum, the latter seceded, and with his adherents formed the present
horde which continues to go by his name. In this way new tribes or clans
are formed, and lurking causes of hostility engendered.

The Cathlamets lived opposite to the lower village of the Wahkiacums, and
numbered ninety−four warriors.

These four tribes, or rather clans, have every appearance of springing from
the same origin, resembling each other in person, dress, language, and
manners. They are rather a diminutive race, generally below five feet five
inches, with crooked legs and thick ankles − a deformity caused by their
passing so much of their time sitting or squatting upon the calves of their
legs and their heels, in the bottom of their canoes − a favorite position,
which they retain, even when on shore. The women increase the deformity
by wearing tight bandages round the ankles, which prevent the circulation
of the blood, and cause a swelling of the muscles of the leg.

Neither sex can boast of personal beauty. Their faces are round, with small
but animated eyes. Their noses are broad and flat at top, and fleshy at the
end, with large nostrils. They have wide mouths, thick lips, and short,
irregular and dirty teeth. Indeed good teeth are seldom to be seen among
the tribes west of the Rocky Mountains, who live simply on fish.

In the early stages of their intercourse with white men, these savages were
but scantily clad. In summer time the men went entirely naked; in the
CHAPTER XL. 281

winter and in bad weather the men wore a small robe, reaching to the
middle of the thigh, made of the skins of animals, or of the wool of the
mountain sheep. Occasionally, they wore a kind of mantle of matting, to
keep off the rain but, having thus protected the back and shoulders, they left
the rest of the body naked.

The women wore similar robes, though shorter, not reaching below the
waist; besides which, they had a kind of petticoat, or fringe, reaching from
the waist to the knee, formed of the fibres of cedar bark, broken into
strands, or a tissue of silk grass twisted and knotted at the ends. This was
the usual dress of the women in summer; should the weather be inclement,
they added a vest of skins, similar to the robe.

The men carefully eradicated every vestige of a beard, considering it a great

deformity. They looked with disgust at the whiskers and well−furnished
chins of the white men, and in derision called them Long−beards. Both
sexes, on the other hand, cherished the hair of the head, which with them is
generally black and rather coarse. They allowed it to grow to a great length
and were very proud and careful of it, sometimes wearing it plaited,
sometimes wound round the head in fanciful tresses. No greater affront
could be offered to them than to cut off their treasured locks.

They had conical hats with narrow rims, neatly woven of bear grass or of
the fibres of cedar bark, interwoven with designs of various shapes and
colors; sometimes merely squares and triangles, at other times rude
representations of canoes, with men fishing and harpooning. These hats
were nearly waterproof, and extremely durable.

The favorite ornaments of the men were collars of bears' claws, the proud
trophies of hunting exploits; while the women and children wore similar
decorations of elks' tusks. An intercourse with the white traders, however,
soon effected a change in the toilets of both sexes. They became fond of
arraying themselves in any article of civilized dress which they could
procure, and often made a most grotesque appearance. They adapted many
articles of finery, also, to their own previous tastes. Both sexes were fond
of adorning themselves with bracelets of iron, brass, or copper. They were
CHAPTER XL. 282

delighted, also, with blue and white beads, particularly the former, and
wore broad tight bands of them round the waist and ankles, large rolls of
them round the neck, and pendants of them in the ears. The men, especially,
who in savage life carry a passion for personal decoration further than the
females, did not think their gala equipments complete unless they had a
jewel of hiaqua, or wampum, dangling at the nose. Thus arrayed, their hair
besmeared with fish oil, and their bodies bedaubed with red clay, they
considered themselves irresistible.

When on warlike expeditions, they painted their faces and bodies in the
most hideous and grotesque manner, according to the universal practice of
American savages. Their arms were bows and arrows, spears, and war
clubs. Some wore a corselet of pieces of hard wood laced together with
bear grass, so as to form a light coat of mail, pliant to the body; and a kind
of casque of cedar bark, leather, and bear grass, sufficient to protect the
head from an arrow or war club. A more complete article of defensive
armor was a buff jerkin or shirt of great thickness, made of doublings of elk
skin, and reaching to the feet, holes being left for the head and arms. This
was perfectly arrowproof; add to which, it was often endowed with
charmed virtues, by the spells and mystic ceremonials of the medicine man,
or conjurer.

Of the peculiar custom, prevalent among these people, of flattening the

head, we have already spoken. It is one of those instances of human
caprice, like the crippling of the feet of females in China, which are quite
incomprehensible. This custom prevails principally among the tribes on the
sea−coast, and about the lower parts of the rivers. How far it extends along
the coast we are not able to ascertain. Some of the tribes, both north and
south of the Columbia, practice it; but they all speak the Chinook language,
and probably originated from the same stock. As far as we can learn, the
remoter tribes, which speak an entirely different language, do not flatten the
head. This absurd custom declines, also, in receding from the shores of the
Pacific; few traces of it are to be found among the tribes of the Rocky
Mountains, and after crossing the mountains it disappears altogether. Those
Indians, therefore, about the head waters of the Columbia, and in the
solitary mountain regions, who are often called Flatheads, must not be
CHAPTER XL. 283

supposed to be characterized by this deformity. It is an appellation often

given by the hunters east of the mountain chain, to all western Indians,
excepting the Snakes.

The religious belief of these people was extremely limited and confined; or
rather, in all probability, their explanations were but little understood by
their visitors. They had an idea of a benevolent and omnipotent spirit, the
creator of all things. They represent him as assuming various shapes at
pleasure, but generally that of an immense bird. He usually inhabits the sun,
but occasionally wings his way through the aerial regions, and sees all that
is doing upon earth. Should anything displease him, he vents his wrath in
terrific storms and tempests, the lightning being the flashes of his eyes, and
the thunder the clapping of his wings. To propitiate his favor they offer to
him annual sacrifices of salmon and venison, the first fruits of their fishing
and hunting.

Besides this aerial spirit they believe in an inferior one, who inhabits the
fire, and of whom they are in perpetual dread, as, though he possesses
equally the power of good and evil, the evil is apt to predominate. They
endeavor, therefore, to keep him in good humor by frequent offerings. He is
supposed also to have great influence with the winged spirit, their
sovereign protector and benefactor. They implore him, therefore, to act as
their interpreter, and procure them all desirable things, such as success in
fishing and hunting, abundance of game, fleet horses, obedient wives, and
male children.

These Indians have likewise their priests, or conjurers, or medicine men,

who pretend to be in the confidence of the deities, and the expounders and
enforcers of their will. Each of these medicine men has his idols carved in
wood, representing the spirits of the air and of the fire, under some rude
and grotesque form of a horse, a bear, a beaver, or other quadruped, or that
of bird or fish. These idols are hung round with amulets and votive
offerings, such as beavers' teeth, and bears' and eagles' claws.

When any chief personage is on his death−bed, or dangerously ill, the

medicine men are sent for. Each brings with him his idols, with which he
CHAPTER XL. 284

retires into a canoe to hold a consultation. As doctors are prone to disagree,

so these medicine men have now and then a violent altercation as to the
malady of the patient, or the treatment of it. To settle this they beat their
idols soundly against each other; whichever first loses a tooth or a claw is
considered as confuted, and his votary retires from the field. Polygamy is
not only allowed, but considered honorable, and the greater number of
wives a man can maintain, the more important is he in the eyes of the tribe.
The first wife, however, takes rank of all the others, and is considered
mistress of the house. Still the domestic establishment is liable to jealousies
and cabals, and the lord and master has much difficulty in maintaining
harmony in his jangling household.

In the manuscript from which we draw many of these particulars, it is

stated that he who exceeds his neighbors in the number of his wives, male
children, and slaves, is elected chief of the village; a title to office which
we do not recollect ever before to have met with.

Feuds are frequent among, these tribes, but are not very deadly. They have
occasionally pitched battles, fought on appointed days, and at specific
places, which are generally the banks of a rivulet. The adverse parties post
themselves on the opposite sides of the stream, and at such distances that
the battles often last a long while before any blood is shed. The number of
killed and wounded seldom exceed half a dozen. Should the damage be
equal on each side, the war is considered as honorably concluded; should
one party lose more than the other, it is entitled to a compensation in slaves
or other property, otherwise hostilities are liable to be renewed at a future
day. They are also given to predatory inroads into the territories of their
enemies, and sometimes of their friendly neighbors. Should they fall upon a
band of inferior force, or upon a village, weakly defended, they act with the
ferocity of true poltroons, slaying all the men, and carrying off the women
and children as slaves. As to the property, it is packed upon horses which
they bring with them for the purpose. They are mean and paltry as warriors,
and altogether inferior in heroic qualities to the savages of the buffalo
plains on the east side of the mountains.
CHAPTER XL. 285

A great portion of their time is passed in revelry, music, dancing, and

gambling. Their music scarcely deserves the name; the instruments being of
the rudest kind. Their singing is harsh and discordant; the songs are chiefly
extempore, relating to passing circumstances, the persons present, or any
trifling object that strikes the attention of the singer. They have several
kinds of dances, some of them lively and pleasing. The women are rarely
permitted to dance with the men, but form groups apart, dancing to the
same instrument and song.

They have a great passion for play, and a variety of games. To such a pitch
of excitement are they sometimes roused, that they gamble away everything
they possess, even to their wives and children. They are notorious thieves,
also, and proud of their dexterity. He who is frequently successful, gains
much applause and popularity; but the clumsy thief, who is detected in
some bungling attempt, is scoffed at and despised, and sometimes severely
punished.

Such are a few leading characteristics of the natives in the neighborhood of

Astoria. They appear to us inferior in many respects to the tribes east of the
mountains, the bold rovers of the prairies; and to partake much of
Esquimaux character; elevated in some degree by a more genial climate and
more varied living style.

The habits of traffic engendered at the cataracts of the Columbia, have had
their influence along the coast. The Chinooks and other Indians at the
mouth of the river, soon proved themselves keen traders, and in their early
dealings with the Astorians never hesitated to ask three times what they
considered the real value of an article. They were inquisitive, also, in the
extreme, and impertinently intrusive; and were prone to indulge in scoffing
and ridicule at the expense of the strangers.

In one thing, however, they showed superior judgment and self− command
to most of their race; this was, in their abstinence from ardent spirits, and
the abhorrence and disgust with which they regarded a drunkard. On one
occasion a son of Comcomly had been induced to drink freely at the
factory, and went home in a state of intoxication, playing all kinds of mad
CHAPTER XLI. 286

pranks, until he sank into a stupor, in which he remained for two days. The
old chieftain repaired to his friend, M'Dougal, with indignation flaming in
his countenance, and bitterly reproached him for having permitted his son
to degrade himself into a beast, and to render himself an object of scorn and
laughter to his slave.

CHAPTER XLI.

Spring Arrangements at Astoria.− Various Expeditions Set Out.− The Long

Narrows.− Pilfering Indians.− Thievish Tribe at Wish− ram. − Portage at
the Falls− Portage by Moonlight.− An Attack, a Route, and a Robbery.−
Indian Cure for Cowardice.− A Parley and Compromise.− The Despatch
Party Turn Back.− Meet Crooks and John Day.− Their Sufferings.− Indian
Perfidy.− Arrival at Astoria.

AS the spring opened, the little settlement of Astoria was in agitation, and
prepared to send forth various expeditions. Several important things were to
be done. It was necessary to send a supply of goods to the trading post of
Mr. David Stuart, established in the preceding autumn on the Oakinagan.
The cache, or secret deposit, made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron Linn, was
likewise to be visited, and the merchandise and other effects left there, to be
brought to Astoria. A third object of moment was to send despatches
overland to Mr. Astor at New York, informing him of the state of affairs at
the settlement, and the fortunes of the several expeditions.

The task of carrying supplies to Oakinagan was assigned to Mr. Robert

Stuart, a spirited and enterprising young man, nephew to the one who had
established the post. The cache was to be sought out by two of the clerks,
named Russell Farnham and Donald M'Gilles, conducted by a guide, and
accompanied by eight men, to assist in bringing home the goods.

As to the despatches, they were confided to Mr. John Reed, the clerk, the
same who had conducted one of the exploring detachments of Snake River.
He was now to trace back his way across the mountains by the same route
by which he had come, with no other companions or escort than Ben Jones,
CHAPTER XLI. 287

the Kentucky hunter, and two Canadians. As it was still hoped that Mr.
Crooks might be in existence, and that Mr. Reed and his party might meet
with him in the course of their route, they were charged with a small supply
of goods and provisions, to aid that gentleman on his way to Astoria.

When the expedition of Reed was made known, Mr. M'Lellan announced
his determination to accompany it. He had long been dissatisfied with the
smallness of his interest in the copartnership, and had requested an
additional number of shares; his request not being complied with, he
resolved to abandon the company. M'Lellan was a man of a singularly
self−willed and decided character, with whom persuasion was useless; he
was permitted, therefore, to take his own course without opposition.

As to Reed, he set about preparing for his hazardous journey with the zeal
of a true Irishman. He had a tin case made, in which the letters and papers
addressed to Mr. Astor were carefully soldered up. This case he intended to
strap upon his shoulders, so as to bear it about with him, sleeping and
waking, in all changes and chances, by land or by water, and never to part
with it but with his life!

As the route of these several parties would be the same for nearly four
hundred miles up the Columbia, and within that distance would lie through
the piratical pass of the rapids, and among the freebooting tribes of the
river, it was thought advisable to start about the same time, and to keep
together. Accordingly, on the 22d of March, they all set off, to the number
of seventeen men, in two canoes − and here we cannot but pause to notice
the hardihood of these several expeditions, so insignificant in point of
force, and severally destined to traverse immense wildernesses where larger
parties had experienced so much danger and distress. When recruits were
sought in the preceding year among experienced hunters and voyageurs at
Montreal and St. Louis, it was considered dangerous to attempt to cross the
Rocky Mountains with less than sixty men; and yet here we find Reed
ready to push his way across those barriers with merely three companions.
Such is the fearlessness, the insensibility to danger, which men acquire by
the habitude of constant risk. The mind, like the body, becomes callous by
exposure.
CHAPTER XLI. 288

The little associated band proceeded up the river, under the command of
Mr. Robert Stuart, and arrived early in the month of April at the Long
Narrows, that notorious plundering place. Here it was necessary to unload
the canoes, and to transport both them and their cargoes to the head of the
Narrows by land. Their party was too few in number for the purpose. They
were obliged, therefore, to seek the assistance of the Cathlasco Indians,
who undertook to carry the goods on their horses. Forward then they set,
the Indians with their horses well freighted, and the first load convoyed by
Reed and five men, well armed; the gallant Irishman striding along at the
head, with his tin case of despatches glittering on his back. In passing,
however, through a rocky and intricate defile, some of the freebooting
vagrants turned their horses up a narrow path and galloped off, carrying
with them two bales of goods, and a number of smaller articles. To follow
them was useless; indeed, it was with much ado that the convoy got into
port with the residue of the cargoes; for some of the guards were pillaged of
their knives and pocket handkerchiefs, and the lustrous tin case of Mr. John
Reed was in imminent jeopardy.

Mr. Stuart heard of these depredations, and hastened forward to the relief of
the convoy, but could not reach them before dusk, by which time they had
arrived at the village of Wish−ram, already noted for its great fishery, and
the knavish propensities of its inhabitants. Here they found themselves
benighted in a strange place, and surrounded by savages bent on pilfering,
if not upon open robbery. Not knowing what active course to take, they
remained under arms all night, without closing an eye, and at the very first
peep of dawn, when objects were yet scarce visible, everything was hastily
embarked, and, without seeking to recover the stolen effects, they pushed
off from shore, "glad to bid adieu," as they said, "to this abominable nest of
miscreants."

The worthies of Wish−ram, however, were not disposed to part so easily

with their visitors. Their cupidity had been quickened by the plunder which
they had already taken, and their confidence increased by the impunity with
which their outrage had passed. They resolved, therefore, to take further toll
of the travellers, and, if possible, to capture the tin case of despatches;
which shining conspicuously from afar, and being guarded by John Reed
CHAPTER XLI. 289

with such especial care, must, as they supposed, be "a great medicine."

Accordingly, Mr. Stuart and his comrades had not proceeded far in the
canoes, when they beheld the whole rabble of Wishram stringing in groups
along the bank, whooping and yelling, and gibbering in their wild jargon,
and when they landed below the falls, they were surrounded by upwards of
four hundred of these river ruffians, armed with bows and arrows, war
clubs, and other savage weapons. These now pressed forward, with offers
to carry the canoes and effects up the portage. Mr Stuart declined
forwarding the goods, alleging the lateness of the hour; but, to keep them in
good humor, informed them, that, if they conducted themselves well, their
offered services might probably be accepted in the morning; in the
meanwhile, he suggested that they might carry up the canoes. They
accordingly set off with the two canoes on their shoulders, accompanied by
a guard of eight men well armed.

When arrived at the head of the falls, the mischievous spirit of the savages
broke out, and they were on the point of destroying the canoes, doubtless
with a view to impede the white men from carrying forward their goods,
and laying them open to further pilfering. They were with some difficulty
prevented from committing this outrage by the interference of an old man,
who appeared to have authority among them; and, in consequence of his
harangue, the whole of the hostile band, with the exception of about fifty,
crossed to the north side of the river, where they lay in wait, ready for
further mischief.

In the meantime, Mr. Stuart, who had remained at the foot of the falls with
the goods, and who knew that the proffered assistance of the savages was
only for the purpose of having an opportunity to plunder, determined, if
possible, to steal a march upon them, and defeat their machinations. In the
dead of the night, therefore, about one o'clock, the moon shining brightly,
he roused his party, and proposed that they should endeavor to transport the
goods themselves, above the falls, before the sleeping savages could be
aware of their operations. All hands sprang to the work with zeal, and
hurried it on in the hope of getting all over before daylight. Mr. Stuart went
forward with the first loads, and took his station at the head of the portage,
CHAPTER XLI. 290

while Mr. Reed and Mr. M'Lellan remained at the foot to forward the
remainder.

The day dawned before the transportation was completed. Some of the fifty
Indians who had remained on the south side of the river, perceived what
was going on, and, feeling themselves too weak for an attack, gave the
alarm to those on the opposite side, upwards of a hundred of whom
embarked in several large canoes. Two loads of goods yet remained to be
brought up. Mr. Stuart despatched some of the people for one of the loads,
with a request to Mr. Reed to retain with him as many of the men as he
thought necessary to guard the remaining load, as he suspected hostile
intentions on the part of the Indians. Mr. Reed, however, refused to retain
any of them, saying that M'Lellan and himself were sufficient to protect the
small quantity that remained. The men accordingly departed with the load,
while Mr. Reed and M'Lellan continued to mount guard over the residue.
By this time, a number of the canoes had arrived from the opposite side. As
they approached the shore, the unlucky tin box of John Reed, shining afar
like the brilliant helmet of Euryalus, caught their eyes. No sooner did the
canoes touch the shore, than they leaped forward on the rocks, set up a
war−whoop, and sprang forward to secure the glittering prize. Mr.
M'Lellan, who was at the river bank, advanced to guard the goods, when
one of the savages at tempted to hoodwink him with his buffalo robe with
one hand, and to stab him with the other. M'Lellan sprang back just far
enough to avoid the blow, and raising his rifle, shot the ruffian through the
heart.

In the meantime, Reed, who with the want of forethought of an Irishman,

had neglected to remove the leathern cover from the lock of his rifle, was
fumbling at the fastenings, when he received a blow on the head with a war
club that laid him senseless on the ground. In a twinkling he was stripped of
his rifle and pistols, and the tin box, the cause of all this onslaught, was
borne off in triumph.

At this critical juncture, Mr. Stuart, who had heard the war− whoop,
hastened to the scene of action with Ben Jones, and seven others of the
men. When he arrived, Reed was weltering in his blood, and an Indian
CHAPTER XLI. 291

standing over him and about to despatch him with a tomahawk. Stuart gave
the word, when Ben Jones leveled his rifle, and shot the miscreant on the
spot. The men then gave a cheer, and charged upon the main body of the
savages, who took to instant flight. Reed was now raised from the ground,
and borne senseless and bleeding to the upper end of the portage.
Preparations were made to launch the canoes and embark in all haste, when
it was found that they were too leaky to be put in the water, and that the
oars had been left at the foot of the falls. A scene of confusion now ensued.
The Indians were whooping and yelling, and running about like fiends. A
panic seized upon the men, at being thus suddenly checked, the hearts of
some of the Canadians died within them, and two young men actually
fainted away. The moment they recovered their senses, Mr. Stuart ordered
that they should be deprived of their arms, their under garments taken off,
and that a piece of cloth should be tied round their waists, in imitation of a
squaw; an Indian punishment for cowardice. Thus equipped, they were
stowed away among the goods in one of the canoes. This ludicrous affair
excited the mirth of the bolder spirits, even in the midst of their perils, and
roused the pride of the wavering. The Indians having crossed back again to
the north side, order was restored, some of the hands were sent back for the
oars, others set to work to calk and launch the canoes, and in a little while
all were embarked and were continuing their voyage along the southern
shore.

No sooner had they departed, than the Indians returned to the scene of
action, bore off their two comrades who had been shot, one of whom was
still living, and returned to their village. Here they killed two horses; and
drank the hot blood to give fierceness to their courage. They painted and
arrayed themselves hideously for battle; performed the dead dance round
the slain, and raised the war song of vengeance. Then mounting their horses
to the number of four hundred and fifty men, and brandishing their
weapons, they set off along the northern bank of the river, to get ahead of
the canoes, lie in wait for them, and take a terrible revenge on the white
men.

They succeeded in getting some distance above the canoes without being
discovered, and were crossing the river to post themselves on the side along
CHAPTER XLI. 292

which the white men were coasting, when they were fortunately descried.
Mr. Stuart and his companions were immediately on the alert. As they drew
near to the place where the savages had crossed, they observed them posted
among steep and overhanging rocks, close along which, the canoes would
have to pass. Finding that the enemy had the advantage of the ground, the
whites stopped short when within five hundred yards of them, and
discharged and reloaded their pieces. They then made a fire, and dressed
the wounds of Mr. Reed, who had received five severe gashes in the head.
This being done, they lashed the canoes together, fastened them to a rock at
a small distance from the shore, and there awaited the menaced attack.

They had not been long posted in this manner, when they saw a canoe
approaching. It contained the war−chief of the tribe, and three of his
principal warriors. He drew near, and made a long harangue, in which he
informed them that they had killed one and wounded another of his nation;
that the relations of the slain cried out for vengeance, and he had been
compelled to lead them to fight. Still he wished to spare unnecessary
bloodshed; he proposed, therefore, that Mr. Reed, who, he observed, was
little better than a dead man, might be given up to be sacrificed to the
manes of the deceased warrior. This would appease the fury of his friends;
the hatchet would then be buried, and all thenceforward would be friends.
The answer was a stern refusal and a defiance, and the war−chief saw that
the canoes were well prepared for a vigorous defense. He withdrew,
therefore, and returning to his warriors among the rocks held long
deliberations. Blood for blood is a principle in Indian equity and Indian
honor; but though the inhabitants of Wish−ram were men of war, they were
likewise men of traffic, and it was suggested that honor for once might give
way to profit. A negotiation was accordingly opened with the white men,
and after some diplomacy, the matter was compromised for a blanket to
cover the dead, and some tobacco to be smoked by the living. This being
granted, the heroes of Wish−ram crossed the river once more, returned to
their villages to feast upon the horses whose blood they had so
vaingloriously drunk, and the travellers pursued their voyage without
further molestation.
CHAPTER XLI. 293

The tin case, however, containing the important despatches for New York,
was irretrievably lost; the very precaution taken by the worthy Hibernian to
secure his missives, had, by rendering them conspicuous, produced their
robbery. The object of his overland journey, therefore, being defeated, he
gave up the expedition. The whole party repaired with Mr. Robert Stuart to
the establishment of Mr. David Stuart, on the Oakinagan River. After
remaining here two or three days, they all set out on their return to Astoria
accompanied by Mr. David Stuart. This gentleman had a large quantity of
beaver skins at his establishment, but did not think it prudent to take them
with him. fearing the levy of "black mail" at the falls.

On their way down, when below the forks of the Columbia, they were
hailed one day from the shore in English. Looking around, they descried
two wretched men, entirely naked. They pulled to shore; the men came up
and made themselves known. They proved to be Mr. Crooks and his
faithful follower, John Day.

The reader will recollect that Mr. Crooks, with Day and four Canadians,
had been so reduced by famine and fatigue, that Mr. Hunt was obliged to
leave them, in the month of December, on the banks of the Snake River.
Their situation was the more critical, as they were in the neighborhood of a
band of Shoshonies, whose horses had been forcibly seized by Mr. Hunt's
party for provisions. Mr. Crooks remained here twenty days, detained by
the extremely reduced state of John Day, who was utterly unable to travel,
and whom he would not abandon, as Day had been in his employ on the
Missouri, and had always proved himself most faithful. Fortunately the
Shoshonies did not offer to molest them. They had never before seen white
men, and seemed to entertain some superstitions with regard to them, for
though they would encamp near them in the daytime, they would move off
with their tents in the night; and finally disappeared, without taking leave.

When Day was sufficiently recovered to travel, they kept feebly on,
sustaining themselves as well as they could, until in the month of February,
when three of the Canadians, fearful of perishing with want, left Mr.
Crooks on a small river, on the road by which Mr Hunt had passed in quest
of Indians. Mr. Crooks followed Mr. Hunt's track in the snow for several
CHAPTER XLI. 294

days, sleeping as usual in the open air, and suffering all kinds of hardships.
At length, coming to a low prairie, he lost every appearance Of the "trail,"
and wandered during the remainder of the winter in the mountains,
subsisting sometimes on horse meat, sometimes on beavers and their skins,
and a part of the time on roots.

About the last of March, the other Canadian gave out and was left with a
lodge of Shoshonies; but Mr. Crooks and John Day still kept on, and
finding the snow sufficiently diminished, undertook, from Indian
information, to cross the last mountain ridge. They happily succeeded, and
afterwards fell in with the Wallah− Wallahs, a tribe of Indians inhabiting
the banks of a river of the same name, and reputed as being frank,
hospitable, and sincere. They proved worthy of the character, for they
received the poor wanderers kindly, killed a horse for them to eat, and
directed them on their way to the Columbia. They struck the river about the
middle of April, and advanced down it one hundred miles, until they came
within about twenty miles of the falls.

Here they met with some of the "chivalry" of that noted pass, who received
them in a friendly way, and set food before them; but, while they were
satisfying their hunger, perfidiously seized their rifles. They then stripped
them naked, and drove them off, refusing the entreaties of Mr. Crooks for a
flint and steel of which they had robbed him; and threatening his life if he
did not instantly depart

In this forlorn plight, still worse off than before, they renewed their
wanderings. They now sought to find their way back to the hospitable
Wallah−Wallahs, and had advanced eighty miles along the river, when
fortunately, on the very morning that they were going to leave the
Columbia and strike inland, the canoes of Mr. Stuart hove in sight.

It is needless to describe the joy of these poor men at once more finding
themselves among countrymen and friends, or of the honest and hearty
welcome with which they were received by their fellow adventurers. The
whole party now continued down the river, passed all the dangerous places
without interruption, and arrived safely at Astoria on the 11th of May.
CHAPTER XLII 295

CHAPTER XLII

Comprehensive Views.− To Supply the Russian Fur Establishment.− An

Agent Sent to Russia.− Project of an Annual Ship.− The Beaver Fitted
Out.− Her Equipment and Crew.− Instructions to the Captain.− The
Sandwich Islands.Rumors of the Fate of the Tonquin.− Precautions on
Reaching the Mouth of the Columbia.

HAVING traced the fortunes of the two expeditions by sea and land to the
mouth of the Columbia, and presented a view of affairs at Astoria, we will
return for a moment to the master spirit of the enterprise, who regulated the
springs of Astoria, at his residence in New York.

It will be remembered, that a part of the plan of Mr. Astor was to furnish
the Russian fur establishment on the northwest coast with regular supplies,
so as to render it independent of those casual vessels which cut up the trade
and supplied the natives with arms. This plan had been countenanced by
our own government, and likewise by Count Pahlen, the Russian minister at
Washington. As its views, however, were important and extensive, and
might eventually affect a wide course of commerce, Mr Astor was desirous
of establishing a complete arrangement on the subject with the Russian
American Fur Company, under the sanction of the Russian government.
For this purpose, in March 1811, he despatched a confidential agent to St.
Petersburg, full empowered to enter into the requisite negotiations. A
passage was given to this gentleman by the government of the United
States in the John Adams, an armed vessel, bound for Europe.

The next step of Mr. Astor was, to despatch the annual ship contemplated
on his general plan. He had as yet heard nothing of the success of the
previous expeditions, and had to proceed upon the presumption that
everything had been effected according to his instructions. He accordingly
fitted out a fine ship of four hundred and ninety tons, called the Beaver, and
freighted her with a valuable cargo destined for the factory at the mouth of
the Columbia, the trade along the coast, and the supply of the Russian
CHAPTER XLII 296

establishment. In this ship embarked a reinforcement, consisting of a

partner, five clerks, fifteen American laborers, and six Canadian voyageurs.
In choosing his agents for his first expedition, Mr. Astor had been obliged
to have recourse to British subjects experienced in the Canadian fur trade;
henceforth it was his intention, as much as possible, to select Americans, so
as to secure an ascendency of American influence in the management of the
company, and to make it decidedly national.

Accordingly, Mr. John Clarke, the partner who took the lead in the present
expedition, was a native of the United States, though he had passed much
of his life in the northwest, having been employed in the trade since the age
of sixteen. Most of the clerks were young gentlemen of good connections in
the American cities, some of whom embarked in the hope of gain, others
through the mere spirit of adventure incident to youth.

The instructions given by Mr. Astor to Captain Sowle, the commander of

the Beaver, were, in some respects, hypothetical, in consequence of the
uncertainty resting upon the previous steps of the enterprise.

He was to touch at the Sandwich Islands, inquire about the fortunes of the
Tonquin, and whether an establishment had been formed at the mouth of
the Columbia. If so, he was to take as many Sandwich Islanders as his ship
could accommodate, and proceed thither. On arriving at the river, he was to
observe great caution, for even if an establishment should have been
formed, it might have fallen into hostile hands. He was, therefore, to put in
as if by casualty or distress, to give himself out as a coasting trader, and to
say nothing about his ship being owned by Mr. Astor, until he had
ascertained that everything was right. In that case, he was to land such part
of his cargo as was intended for the establishment, and to proceed to New
Archangel with the supplies intended for the Russian post at that place,
where he could receive peltries in payment. With these he was to return to
Astoria; take in the furs collected there, and, having completed his cargo by
trading along the coast, was to proceed to Canton. The captain received the
same injunctions that had been given to Captain Thorn of the Tonquin, of
great caution and circumspection in his intercourse with the natives, and
that he should not permit more than one or two to be on board at a time.
CHAPTER XLII 297

The Beaver sailed from New York on the 10th of October, 1811, and
reached the Sandwich Islands without any occurrence of moment. Here a
rumor was heard of the disastrous fate of the Tonquin. Deep solicitude was
felt by every one on board for the fate of both expeditions, by sea and land.
Doubts were entertained whether any establishment had been formed at the
mouth of the Columbia, or whether any of the company would be found
there. After much deliberation, the Captain took twelve Sandwich Islanders
on board, for the service of the factory, should there be one in existence,
and proceeded on his voyage.

On the 6th of May, he arrived off the mouth of the Columbia and running
as near as possible, fired two signal guns. No answer was returned, nor was
there any signal to be descried. Nigh coming on, the ship stood out to sea,
and every heart drooped as the land faded away. On the following morning
they again ran in within four miles of shore, and fired other signal guns, but
still without reply. A boat was then despatched, to sound the channel, and
attempt an entrance; but returned without success there being a tremendous
swell, and breakers. Signal guns were fired again in the evening, but
equally in vain, and once more the ship stood off to sea for the night. The
captain now gave up all hope of finding any establishment at the place, and
indulged in the most gloomy apprehensions. He feared his predecessor had
been massacred before they had reached their place of destination; or if
they should have erected a factory, that it had been surprised and destroyed
by the natives.

In this moment of doubt and uncertainty, Mr. Clarke announced his

determination, in case of the worst, to found an establishment with the
present party, and all hands bravely engaged to stand by him in the
undertaking. The next morning the ship stood in for the third time, and fired
three signal guns, but with little hope of reply. To the great joy of the crew,
three distinct guns were heard in answer. The apprehensions of all but
Captain Sowle were now at rest. That cautious commander recollected the
instructions given him by Mr. Astor, and determined to proceed with great
circumspection. He was well aware of Indian treachery and cunning. It was
not impossible, he observed, that these cannon might have been fired by the
savages themselves. They might have surprised the fort, massacred its
CHAPTER XLIII. 298

inmates; and these signal guns might only be decoys to lure him across the
bar, that they might have a chance of cutting him off, and seizing his vessel.

At length a white flag was descried hoisted as a signal on Cape

Disappointment. The passengers pointed to it in triumph, but the captain
did not yet dismiss his doubts. A beacon fire blazed through the night on
the same place, but the captain observed that all these signals might be
treacherous.

On the following morning, May 9th, the vessel came to anchor off Cape
Disappointment, outside of the bar. Towards noon an Indian canoe was
seen making for the ship and all hands were ordered to be on the alert. A
few moments afterwards, a barge was perceived following the canoe. The
hopes and fears of those on board of the ship were in tumultuous agitation,
as the boat drew nigh that was to let them know the fortunes of the
enterprise, and the fate of their predecessors. The captain, who was haunted
with the idea of possible treachery, did not suffer his curiosity to get the
better of his caution, but ordered a party of his men under arms, to receive
the visitors. The canoe came first alongside, in which were Comcomly and
six Indians; in the barge were M'Dougal, M'Lellan, and eight Canadians. A
little conversation with these gentlemen dispelled all the captain's fears, and
the Beaver crossing the bar under their pilotage, anchored safely in Baker's
Bay.

CHAPTER XLIII.

Active Operations at Astoria− Various Expeditions Fitted Out.− Robert

Stuart and a Party Destined for New York − Singular Conduct of John
Day.− His Fate.− Piratical Pass and Hazardous Portage.−Rattlesnakes. −
Their Abhorrence of Tobacco.− Arrival Among the Wallah−Wallahs. −
Purchase of Horses− Departure of Stuart and His Band for the Mountains.

THE arrival of the Beaver with a reinforcement and supplies, gave new life
and vigor to affairs at Astoria. These were means for extending the
operations of the establishment, and founding interior trading posts. Two
CHAPTER XLIII. 299

parties were immediately set on foot to proceed severally under the

command of Messrs. M'Kenzie and Clarke, and establish posts above the
forks of the Columbia, at points where most rivalry and opposition were
apprehended from the Northwest Company.

A third party, headed by Mr. David Stuart, was to repair with supplies to
the post of that gentleman on the Oakinagan. In addition to these
expeditions, a fourth was necessary to convey despatches to Mr. Astor, at
New York, in place of those unfortunately lost by John Reed. The safe
conveyance of these despatches was highly important, as by them Mr.
Astor would receive an account of the state of the factory, and regulate his
reinforcements and supplies accordingly. The mission was one of peril and
hardship and required a man of nerve and vigor. It was confided to Robert
Stuart, who, though he had never been across the mountains, and a very
young man, had given proofs of his competency to the task. Four trusty and
well−tried men, who had come overland in Mr. Hunt's expedition, were
given as his guides and hunters. These were Ben Jones and John Day, the
Kentuckians, and Andri Vallar and Francis Le Clerc, Canadians. Mr.
M'Lellan again expressed his determination to take this opportunity of
returning to the Atlantic States. In this he was joined by Mr. Crooks, −who,
notwithstanding all that he had suffered in the dismal journey of the
preceding winter, was ready to retrace his steps and brave every danger and
hardship, rather than remain at Astoria. This little handful of adventurous
men we propose to accompany in its long and perilous peregrinations.

The several parties we have mentioned all set off in company on the 29th of
June, under a salute of cannon from the fort. They were to keep together for
mutual protection through the piratical passes of the river, and to separate,
on their different destinations, at the forks of the Columbia. Their number,
collectively, was nearly sixty, consisting of partners and clerks, Canadian
voyageurs, Sandwich Islanders, and American hunters; and they embarked
in two barges and ten canoes.

They had scarcely got under way, when John Day, the Kentucky hunter,
became restless and uneasy, and extremely wayward in his deportment.
This caused surprise, for in general he was remarkable for his cheerful,
CHAPTER XLIII. 300

manly deportment. It was supposed that the recollection of past sufferings

might harass his mind in undertaking to retrace the scenes where they had
been experienced. As the expedition advanced, however, his agitation
increased. He began to talk wildly and incoherently, and to show manifest
symptoms of derangement.

Mr. Crooks now informed his companions that in his desolate wanderings
through the Snake River country during the preceding winter, in which he
had been accompanied by John Day, the poor fellow's wits had been
partially unsettled by the sufferings and horrors through which they had
passed, and he doubted whether they had ever been restored to perfect
sanity. It was still hoped that this agitation of spirits might pass away as
they proceeded; but, on the contrary, it grew more and more violent. His
comrades endeavored to divert his mind and to draw him into rational
conversation, but he only became the more exasperated, uttering wild and
incoherent ravings. The sight of any of the natives put him in an absolute
fury, and he would heap on them the most opprobrious epithets;
recollecting, no doubt, what he had suffered from Indian robbers.

On the evening of the 2d of July he became absolutely frantic, and

attempted to destroy himself. Being disarmed, he sank into quietude, and
professed the greatest remorse for the crime he had meditated. He then
pretended to sleep, and having thus lulled suspicion, suddenly sprang up,
just before daylight, seized a pair of loaded pistols, and endeavored to blow
out his brains. In his hurry he fired too high, and the balls passed over his
head. He was instantly secured and placed under a guard in one of the
boats. How to dispose of him was now the question, as it was impossible to
keep him with the expedition. Fortunately Mr. Stuart met with some
Indians accustomed to trade with Astoria. These undertook to conduct John
Day back to the factory, and deliver him there in safety. It was with the
utmost concern that his comrades saw the poor fellow depart; for,
independent of his invaluable services as a first−rate hunter, his frank and
loyal qualities had made him a universal favorite. It may be as well to add
that the Indians executed their task faithfully, and landed John Day among
his friends at Astoria; but his constitution was completely broken by the
hardships he had undergone, and he died within a year.
CHAPTER XLIII. 301

On the evening of the 6th of July the party arrived at the piratical pass of
the river, and encamped at the foot of the first rapid. The next day, before
the commencement of the portage, the greatest precautions were taken to
guard against lurking treachery, or open attack. The weapons of every man
were put in order, and his cartridge−box replenished. Each one wore a kind
of surcoat made of the skin of the elk, reaching from his neck to his knees,
and answering the purpose of a shirt of mail, for it was arrow proof, and
could even resist a musket ball at the distance of ninety yards. Thus armed
and equipped, they posted their forces in military style. Five of the officers
took their stations at each end of the portage, which was between three and
four miles in length; a number of men mounted guard at short distances
along the heights immediately overlooking the river, while the residue, thus
protected from surprise, employed themselves below in dragging up the
barges and canoes, and carrying up the goods along the narrow margin of
the rapids. With these precautions they all passed unmolested. The only
accident that happened was the upsetting of one of the canoes, by which
some of the goods sunk, and others floated down the stream. The alertness
and rapacity of the hordes which infest these rapids, were immediately
apparent. They pounced upon the floating merchandise with the keenness
of regular wreckers. A bale of goods which landed upon one of the islands
was immediately ripped open, one half of its contents divided among the
captors, and the other half secreted in a lonely hut in a deep ravine. Mr.
Robert Stuart, however, set out in a canoe with five men and an interpreter,
ferreted out the wreckers in their retreat, and succeeded in wrestling from
them their booty.

Similar precautions to those already mentioned, and to a still greater extent,

were observed in passing the Long Narrows, and the falls, where they
would be exposed to the depredations of the chivalry of Wish−ram, and its
freebooting neighborhood. In fact, they had scarcely set their first watch
one night, when an alarm of "Indians!" was given. "To arms" was the cry,
and every man was at his post in an instant. The alarm was explained; a war
party of Shoshonies had surprised a canoe of the natives just below the
encampment, had murdered four men and two women, and it was
apprehended they would attack the camp. The boats and canoes were
immediately hauled up, a breastwork was made of them and the packages,
CHAPTER XLIII. 302

forming three sides of a square, with the river in the rear, and thus the party
remained fortified throughout the night.

The dawn, however, dispelled the alarm; the portage was conducted in
peace; the vagabond warriors of the vicinity hovered about them while at
work, but were kept at a wary distance. They regarded the loads of
merchandise with wistful eyes, but seeing the "long−beards" so formidable
in number, and so well prepared for action, they made no attempt either by
open force or sly pilfering to collect their usual toll, but maintained a
peaceful demeanor, and were afterwards rewarded for their good conduct
with presents of tobacco.

Fifteen days were consumed in ascending from the foot of the first rapid to
the head of the falls, a distance of about eighty miles, but full of all kinds of
obstructions. Having happily accomplished these difficult portages, the
party, on the 19th of July, arrived at a smoother part of the river, and
pursued their way up the stream with greater speed and facility.

They were now in the neighborhood where Mr. Crooks and John Day had
been so perfidiously robbed and stripped a few months previously, when
confiding in the proffered hospitality of a ruffian band. On landing at night,
therefore, a vigilant guard was maintained about the camp. On the
following morning a number of Indians made their appearance, and came
prowling round the party while at breakfast. To his great delight, Mr.
Crooks recognized among them two of the miscreants by whom he had
been robbed. They were instantly seized, bound hand and foot, and thrown
into one of the canoes. Here they lay in doleful fright, expecting summary
execution. Mr. Crooks, however, was not of a revengeful disposition, and
agreed to release the culprits as soon as the pillaged property should be
restored. Several savages immediately started off in different directions,
and before night the rifles of Crooks and Day were produced; several of the
smaller articles pilfered from them, however, could not be recovered.

The bands of the culprits were then removed, and they lost no time in
taking their departure, still under the influence of abject terror, and scarcely
crediting their senses that they had escaped the merited punishment of their
CHAPTER XLIII. 303

offenses.

The country on each side of the river now began to assume a different
character. The hills, and cliffs, and forests disappeared; vast sandy plains,
scantily clothed here and there with short tufts of grass, parched by the
summer sun, stretched far away to the north and south. The river was
occasionally obstructed with rocks and rapids, but often there were smooth,
placid intervals, where the current was gentle, and the boatmen were
enabled to lighten their labors with the assistance of the sail.

The natives in this part of the river resided entirely on the northern side.
They were hunters, as well as fishermen, and had horses in plenty. Some of
these were purchased by the party, as provisions, and killed on the spot,
though they occasionally found a difficulty in procuring fuel wherewith to
cook them. One of the greatest dangers that beset the travellers in this part
of their expedition, was the vast number of rattlesnakes which infested the
rocks about the rapids and portages, and on which the men were in danger
of treading. They were often found, too, in quantities about the
encampments. In one place, a nest of them lay coiled together, basking in
the sun. Several guns loaded with shot were discharged at them, and
thirty−seven killed and wounded. To prevent any unwelcome visits from
them in the night, tobacco was occasionally strewed around the tents, a
weed for which they have a very proper abhorrence.

On the 28th of July the travellers arrived at the mouth of the

Wallah−Wallah, a bright, clear stream, about six feet deep, and fifty−five
yards wide, which flows rapidly over a bed of sand and gravel, and throws
itself into the Columbia, a few miles below Lewis River. Here the
combined parties that had thus far voyaged together were to separate, each
for its particular destination.

On the banks of the Wallah−Wallah lived the hospitable tribe of the same
name who had succored Mr. Crooks and John Day in the time of their
extremity. No sooner did they hear of the arrival of the party, than they
hastened to greet them. They built a great bonfire on the bank of the river,
before the camp, and men and women danced round it to the cadence of
CHAPTER XLIII. 304

their songs, in which they sang the praises of the white men, and welcomed
them to their country.

On the following day a traffic was commenced, to procure horses for such
of the party as intended to proceed by land. The Wallah− Wallahs are an
equestrian tribe. The equipments of their horses were rude and
inconvenient. High saddles, roughly made of deer skin, stuffed with hair,
which chafe the horse's back and leave it raw; wooden stirrups, with a
thong of raw hide wrapped round them; and for bridles they have cords of
twisted horse−hair, which they tie round the under jaw. They are, like most
Indians, bold but hard riders, and when on horseback gallop about the most
dangerous places, without fear for themselves, or pity for their steeds.

From these people Mr. Stuart purchased twenty horses for his party; some
for the saddle, and others to transport the baggage. He was fortunate in
procuring a noble animal for his own use, which was praised by the Indians
for its great speed and bottom, and a high price set upon it. No people
understand better the value of a horse than these equestrian tribes; and
nowhere is speed a greater requisite, as they frequently engage in the chase
of the antelope, one of the fleetest of animals. Even after the Indian who
sold this boasted horse to Mr. Stuart had concluded his bargain, he lingered
about the animal, seeming loth to part from him, and to be sorry for what he
had done.

A day or two were employed by Mr. Stuart in arranging packages and

pack−saddles, and making other preparations for his long and arduous
journey. His party, by the loss of John Day, was now reduced to six, a small
number for such an expedition. They were young men, however, full of
courage, health, and good spirits, and stimulated rather than appalled by
danger.

On the morning of the 31st of July, all preparations being concluded, Mr.
Stuart and his little band mounted their steeds and took a farewell of their
fellow−travellers, who gave them three hearty cheers as they set out on
their dangerous journey. The course they took was to the southeast, towards
the fated region of the Snake River. At an immense distance rose a chain of
CHAPTER XLIV. 305

craggy mountains, which they would have to traverse; they were the same
among which the travellers had experienced such sufferings from cold
during the preceding winter, and from their azure tints, when seen at a
distance, had received the name of the Blue Mountains.

CHAPTER XLIV.

Route of Mr. Stuart− Dreary Wilds.− Thirsty Travelling.−A Grove and

Streamlet.− The Blue Mountains.− A Fertile Plain With Rivulets.− Sulphur
Spring− Route Along Snake River− Rumors of White Men.−The Snake and
His Horse.− A Snake Guide.−A Midnight Decampment.− Unexpected
Meeting With Old Comrades− Story of Trappers' Hardships− Salmon
Falls− A Great Fishery.− Mode of Spearing Salmon.− Arrival at the
Caldron Linn.− State of the Caches. − New Resolution of the Three
Kentucky Trappers.

IN retracing the route which had proved so disastrous to Mr. Hunt's party
during the preceding winter, Mr. Stuart had trusted, in the present more
favorable season, to find easy travelling and abundant supplies. On these
great wastes and wilds, however, each season has its peculiar hardships.
The travellers had not proceeded far, before they found themselves among
naked and arid hills, with a soil composed of sand and clay, baked and
brittle, that to all appearance had never been visited by the dews of heaven.

Not a spring, or pool, or running stream was to be seen; the sunburnt

country was seamed and cut up by dry ravines, the beds of winter torrents,
serving only to balk the hopes of man and beast with the sight of dusty
channels, where water had once poured along in floods.

For a long summer day they continued onward without halting, a burning
sky above their heads, a parched desert beneath their feet, with just wind
enough to raise the light sand from the knolls, and envelop them in stifling
clouds. The sufferings from thirst became intense; a fine young dog, their
only companion of the kind, gave out, and expired. Evening drew on
without any prospect of relief, and they were almost reduced to despair,
CHAPTER XLIV. 306

when they descried something that looked like a fringe of forest along the
horizon. All were inspired with new hope, for they knew that on these arid
wastes, in the neighborhood of trees, there is always water.

They now quickened their pace; the horses seemed to understand their
motives, and to partake of their anticipations; for, though before almost
ready to give out, they now required neither whip nor spur. With all their
exertions, it was late in the night before they drew near to the trees. As they
approached, they heard, with transport, the rippling of a shallow stream. No
sooner did the refreshing sound reach the ears of the horse, than the poor
animals snuffed the air, rushed forward with ungovernable eagerness, and
plunging their muzzles into the water, drank until they seemed in danger of
bursting. Their riders had but little more discretion, and required repeated
draughts to quench their excessive thirst. Their weary march that day had
been forty−five miles, over a tract that might rival the deserts of Africa for
aridity. Indeed, the sufferings of the traveller on these American deserts is
frequently more severe than in the wastes of Africa or Asia, from being less
habituated and prepared to cope with them.

On the banks of this blessed stream the travellers encamped for the night;
and so great had been their fatigue, and so sound and sweet was their sleep,
that it was a late hour the next morning before they awoke. They now
recognized the little river to be the Umatilla, the same on the banks of
which Mr. Hunt and his followers had arrived after their painful struggle
through the Blue Mountains, and experienced such a kind relief in the
friendly camp of the Sciatogas.

That range of Blue Mountains now extended in the distance before them;
they were the same among which poor Michael Carriere had perished. They
form the southeast boundary of the great plains along the Columbia,
dividing the waters of its main stream from those of Lewis River. They are,
in fact, a part of a long chain, which stretches over a great extent of
country, and includes in its links the Snake River Mountains.

The day was somewhat advanced before the travellers left the shady banks
of the Umatilla. Their route gradually took them among the Blue
CHAPTER XLIV. 307

Mountains, which assumed the most rugged aspect on a near approach.

They were shagged with dense and gloomy forests, and cut up by deep and
precipitous ravines, extremely toilsome to the horses. Sometimes the
travellers had to follow the course of some brawling stream, with a broken,
rocky bed, which the shouldering cliffs and promontories on either side
obliged them frequently to cross and recross. For some miles they struggled
forward through these savage and darkly wooded defiles, when all at once
the whole landscape changed, as if by magic. The rude mountains and
rugged ravines softened into beautiful hills, and intervening meadows, with
rivulets winding through fresh herbage, and sparkling and murmuring over
gravelly beds, the whole forming a verdant and pastoral scene, which
derived additional charms from being locked up in the bosom of such a
hard−hearted region.

Emerging from the chain of Blue Mountains, they descended upon a vast
plain, almost a dead level, sixty miles in circumference, Of excellent soil,
with fine streams meandering through it in every direction, their courses
marked out in the wide landscape by serpentine lines of cotton−wood trees,
and willows, which fringed their banks, and afforded sustenance to great
numbers of beavers and otters.

In traversing this plain, they passed, close to the skirts of the hills, a great
pool of water, three hundred yards in circumference, fed by a sulphur
spring, about ten feet in diameter, boiling up in one corner. The vapor from
this pool was extremely noisome, and tainted the air for a considerable
distance. The place was much frequented by elk, which were found in
considerable numbers in the adjacent mountains, and their horns, shed in
the spring−time, were strewed in every direction around the pond.

On the 10th of August, they reached the main body of Woodvile Creek, the
same stream which Mr. Hunt had ascended in the preceding year, shortly
after his separation from Mr. Crooks.

On the banks of this stream they saw a herd of nineteen antelopes; a sight
so unusual in that part of the country, that at first they doubted the evidence
of their senses. They tried by every means to get within shot of them, but
CHAPTER XLIV. 308

they were too shy and fleet, and after alternately bounding to a distance,
and then stopping to gaze with capricious curiosity at the hunter, they at
length scampered out of sight.

On the 12th of August, the travellers arrived on the banks of Snake River,
the scene of so many trials and mishaps to all of the present party excepting
Mr. Stuart. They struck the river just above the place where it entered the
mountains, through which Messrs. Stuart and Crooks had vainly
endeavored to find a passage. The river was here a rapid stream, four
hundred yards in width, with high sandy banks, and here and there a scanty
growth of willow. Up the southern side of the river they now bent their
course, intending to visit the caches made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron Linn.

On the second evening, a solitary Snake Indian visited their camp, at a late
hour, and informed them that there was a white man residing at one of the
cantonments of his tribe, about a day's journey higher up the river. It was
immediately concluded that he must be one of the poor fellows of Mr.
Hunt's party, who had given out, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, in the
wretched journey of the preceding winter. All present who had borne a part
in the sufferings of that journey, were eager now to press forward, and
bring relief to a lost comrade. Early the next morning, therefore, they
pushed forward with unusual alacrity. For two days, however, did they
travel without being able to find any trace of such a straggler.

On the evening of the second day, they arrived at a place where a large
river came in from the east, which was renowned among all the wandering
hordes of the Snake nation for its salmon fishery, that fish being taken in
incredible quantities in this neighborhood. Here, therefore, during the
fishing season, the Snake Indians resort from far and near, to lay in their
stock of salmon, which, with esculent roots, forms the principal food of the
inhabitants of these barren regions.

On the bank of a small stream emptying into Snake River at this place, Mr.
Stuart found an encampment of Shoshonies. He made the usual inquiry of
them concerning the white man of whom he had received intelligence. No
such person was dwelling among them, but they said there were white men
CHAPTER XLIV. 309

residing with some of their nation on the opposite side of the river. This
was still more animating information. Mr. Crooks now hoped that these
might be the men of his party, who, disheartened by perils and hardships,
had preferred to remain among the Indians. Others thought they might be
Mr. Miller and the hunters who had left the main body at Henry's Fort, to
trap among the mountain streams. Mr. Stuart halted, therefore, in the
neighborhood of the Shoshonie lodges, and sent an Indian across the river
to seek out the white men in question, and bring them to his camp.

The travellers passed a restless, miserable night. The place swarmed with
myriads of mosquitoes, which, with their stings and their music, set all
sleep at defiance. The morning dawn found them in a feverish, irritable
mood, and their spleen was completely aroused by the return of the Indian
without any intelligence of the white men. They now considered
themselves the dupes of Indian falsehoods, and resolved to put no more
confidence in Snakes. They soon, however, forgot this resolution. In the
course of the morning, an Indian came galloping after them; Mr. Stuart
waited to receive him; no sooner had he come up, than, dismounting and
throwing his arms around the neck of Mr. Stuart's horse, he began to kiss
and caress the animal, who, on his part, seemed by no means surprised or
displeased with his salutation. Mr. Stuart, who valued his horse highly, was
somewhat annoyed by these transports; the cause of them was soon
explained. The Snake said the horse had belonged to him, and been the best
in his possession, and that it had been stolen by the Wallah−Wallahs. Mr.
Stuart was by no means pleased with this recognition of his steed, nor
disposed to admit any claim on the part of its ancient owner. In fact, it was
a noble animal, admirably shaped, of free and generous spirit, graceful in
movement, and fleet as an antelope. It was his intention, if possible, to take
the horse to New York, and present him to Mr. Astor.

In the meantime, some of the party came up, and immediately recognized
in the Snake an old friend and ally. He was, in fact, one of the two guides
who had conducted Mr. Hunt's party, in the preceding autumn, across Mad
River Mountain to Fort Henry, and who subsequently departed with Mr.
Miller and his fellow trappers, to conduct them to a good trapping ground.
The reader may recollect that these two trusty Snakes were engaged by Mr.
CHAPTER XLIV. 310

Hunt to return and take charge of the horses which the party intended to
leave at Fort Henry, when they should embark in canoes.

The party now crowded round the Snake, and began to question him with
eagerness. His replies were somewhat vague, and but partially understood.
He told a long story about the horses, from which it appeared that they had
been stolen by various wandering bands, and scattered in different
directions. The cache, too, had been plundered, and the saddles and other
equipments carried off. His information concerning Mr. Miller and his
comrades was not more satisfactory. They had trapped for some time about
the upper streams, but had fallen into the hands of a marauding party of
Crows, who had robbed them of horses, weapons, and everything.

Further questioning brought forth further intelligence, but all of a disastrous

kind. About ten days previously, he had met with three other white men, in
very miserable plight, having one horse each, and but one rifle among
them. They also had been plundered and maltreated by the Crows, those
universal freebooters. The Snake endeavored to pronounce the names of
these three men, and as far as his imperfect sounds could be understood,
they were supposed to be three of the party of four hunters, namely,
Carson, St. Michael, Detaye, and Delaunay, who were detached from Mr.
Hunt's party on the 28th of September, to trap beaver on the head waters of
the Columbia.

In the course of conversation, the Indian informed them that the route by
which Mr. Hunt had crossed the Rocky Mountains was very bad and
circuitous, and that he knew one much shorter and easier. Mr. Stuart urged
him to accompany them as guide, promising to reward him with a pistol
with powder and ball, a knife, an awl, some blue beads, a blanket, and a
looking−glass. Such a catalogue of riches was too tempting to be resisted;
besides the poor Snake languished after the prairies; he was tired, he said,
of salmon, and longed for buffalo meat, and to have a grand buffalo hunt
beyond the mountains. He departed, therefore, with all speed, to get his
arms and equipments for the journey, promising to rejoin the party the next
day. He kept his word, and, as he no longer said anything to Mr. Stuart on
the subject of the pet horse, they journeyed very harmoniously together;
CHAPTER XLIV. 311

though now and then, the Snake would regard his quondam steed with a
wistful eye.

They had not travelled many miles, when they came to a great bend in the
river. Here the Snake informed them that, by cutting across the hills they
would save many miles of distance. The route across, however, would be a
good day's journey. He advised them, therefore, to encamp here for the
night, and set off early in the morning. They took his advice, though they
had come but nine miles that day.

On the following morning they rose, bright and early, to ascend the hills.
On mustering their little party, the guide was missing. They supposed him
to be somewhere in the neighborhood, and proceeded to collect the horses.
The vaunted steed of Mr. Stuart was not to be found. A suspicion flashed
upon his mind. Search for the horse of the Snake! He likewise was gone −−
the tracks of two horses, one after the other, were found, making off from
the camp. They appeared as if one horse had been mounted, and the other
led. They were traced for a few miles above the camp, until they both
crossed the river. It was plain the Snake had taken an Indian mode of
recovering his horse, having quietly decamped with him in the night.

New vows were made never more to trust in Snakes, or any other Indians.
It was determined, also, to maintain, hereafter, the strictest vigilance over
their horses, dividing the night into three watches, and one person mounting
guard at a time. They resolved, also, to keep along the river, instead of
taking the short cut recommended by the fugitive Snake, whom they now
set down for a thorough deceiver. The heat of the weather was oppressive,
and their horses were, at times, rendered almost frantic by the stings of the
prairie flies. The nights were suffocating, and it was almost impossible to
sleep, from the swarms of mosquitoes.

On the 20th of August they resumed their march, keeping along the prairie
parallel to Snake River. The day was sultry, and some of the party, being
parched with thirst, left the line of march, and scrambled down the bank of
the river to drink. The bank was overhung with willows, beneath which, to
their surprise, they beheld a man fishing. No sooner did he see them, than
CHAPTER XLIV. 312

he uttered an exclamation of joy. It proved to be John Hoback, one of their

lost comrades. They had scarcely exchanged greetings, when three other
men came out from among the willows. They were Joseph Miller, Jacob
Rezner, and Robinson, the scalped Kentuckian, the veteran of the Bloody
Ground.

The reader will perhaps recollect the abrupt and willful manner in which
Mr. Miller threw up his interest as a partner of the company, and departed
from Fort Henry, in company with these three trappers, and a fourth, named
Cass. He may likewise recognize in Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, the trio
of Kentucky hunters who had originally been in the service of Mr. Henry,
and whom Mr. Hunt found floating down the Missouri, on their way
homeward; and prevailed upon, once more, to cross the mountains. The
haggard looks and naked condition of these men proved how much they
had suffered. After leaving Mr. Hunt's party, they had made their way about
two hundred miles to the southward, where they trapped beaver on a river
which, according to their account, discharged itself into the ocean to the
south of the Columbia, but which we apprehend to be Bear River, a stream
emptying itself into Lake Bonneville, an immense body of salt water, west
of the Rocky Mountains.

Having collected a considerable quantity of beaver skins, they made them

into packs, loaded their horses, and steered two hundred miles due east.
Here they came upon an encampment of sixty lodges of Arapahays, an
outlawed band of the Arrapahoes, and notorious robbers. These fell upon
the poor trappers; robbed them of their peltries, most of their clothing, and
several of their horses. They were glad to escape with their lives, and
without being entirely stripped, and after proceeding about fifty miles
further, made their halt for the winter.

Early in the spring they resumed their wayfaring, but were unluckily
overtaken by the same ruffian horde, who levied still further contributions,
and carried off the remainder of their horses, excepting two. With these
they continued on, suffering the greatest hardships. They still retained rifles
and ammunition, but were in a desert country, where neither bird nor beast
was to be found. Their only chance was to keep along the rivers, and
CHAPTER XLIV. 313

subsist by fishing; but at times no fish were to be taken, and then their
sufferings were horrible. One of their horses was stolen among the
mountains by the Snake Indians; the other, they said, was carried off by
Cass, who, according to their account, "villainously left them in their
extremities." Certain dark doubts and surmises were afterwards circulated
concerning the fate of that poor fellow, which, if true, showed to what a
desperate state of famine his comrades had been reduced.

Being now completely unhorsed, Mr. Miller and his three companions
wandered on foot for several hundred miles, enduring hunger, thirst, and
fatigue, while traversing the barren wastes which abound beyond the Rocky
Mountains. At the time they were discovered by Mr. Stuart's party, they
were almost famished, and were fishing for a precarious meal. Had Mr.
Stuart made the short cut across the hills, avoiding this bend of the river, or
had not some of his party accidentally gone down to the margin of the
stream to drink, these poor wanderers might have remained undiscovered,
and have perished in the wilderness. Nothing could exceed their joy on thus
meeting with their old comrades, or the heartiness with which they were
welcomed. All hands immediately encamped; and the slender stores of the
party were ransacked to furnish out a suitable regale.

The next morning they all set out together; Mr. Miller and his comrades
being resolved to give up the life of a trapper, and accompany Mr. Stuart
back to St. Louis.

For several days they kept along the course of Snake River, occasionally
making short cuts across hills and promontories, where there were bends in
the stream. In their way they passed several camps of Shoshonies, from
some of whom they procured salmon, but in general they were too
wretchedly poor to furnish anything. It was the wish of Mr. Stuart to
purchase horses for the recent recruits of his party; but the Indians could
not be prevailed upon to part with any, alleging that they had not enough
for their own use.

On the 25th of August they reached a great fishing place, to which they
gave the name of the Salmon Falls. Here there is a perpendicular fall of
CHAPTER XLIV. 314

twenty feet on the north side of the river, while on the south side there is a
succession of rapids. The salmon are taken here in incredible quantities, as
they attempt to shoot the falls. It was now a favorable season, and there
were about one hundred lodges of Shoshonies busily engaged killing and
drying fish. The salmon begin to leap shortly after sunrise. At this time the
Indians swim to the centre of the falls, where some station themselves on
rocks, and others stand to their waists in the water, all armed with spears,
with which they assail the salmon as they attempt to leap, or fall back
exhausted. It is an incessant slaughter, so great is the throng of the fish.

The construction of the spears thus used is peculiar. The head is a straight
piece of elk horn, about seven inches long, on the point of which an
artificial barb is made fast, with twine well gummed. The head is stuck on
the end of the shaft, a very long pole of willow, to which it is likewise
connected by a strong cord, a few inches in length. When the spearsman
makes a sure blow, he often strikes the head of the spear through the body
of the fish. It comes off easily, and leaves the salmon struggling with the
string through its body, while the pole is still held by the spearsman. Were
it not for the precaution of the string, the willow shaft would be snapped by
the struggles and the weight of the fish. Mr. Miller, in the course of his
wanderings, had been at these falls, and had seen several thousand salmon
taken in the course of one afternoon. He declared that he had seen a salmon
leap a distance of about thirty feet, from the commencement of the foam at
the foot of the falls, completely to the top.

Having purchased a good supply of salmon from the fishermen, the party
resumed their journey, and on the twenty−ninth, arrived at the Caldron
Linn, the eventful scene of the preceding autumn. Here, the first thing that
met their eyes was a memento of the perplexities of that period; the wreck
of a canoe lodged between two ledges of rocks. They endeavored to get
down to it, but the river banks were too high and precipitous.

They now proceeded to that part of the neighborhood where Mr. Hunt and
his party had made the caches, intending to take from them such articles as
belonged to Mr. Crooks, M'Lellan, and the Canadians. On reaching the
spot, they found, to their astonishment, six of the caches open and rifled of
CHAPTER XLIV. 315

their contents, excepting a few books which lay scattered about the vicinity.
They had the appearance of having been plundered in the course of the
summer. There were tracks of wolves in every direction, to and from the
holes, from which Mr. Stuart concluded that these animals had first been
attracted to the place by the smell of the skins contained in the caches,
which they had probably torn up, and that their tracks had betrayed the
secret to the Indians.

The three remaining caches had not been molested; they contained a few
dry goods, some ammunition, and a number of beaver traps. From these
Mr. Stuart took whatever was requisite for his party; he then deposited
within them all his superfluous baggage, and all the books and papers
scattered around; the holes were then carefully closed up, and all traces of
them effaced. And here we have to record another instance of the
indomitable spirit of the western trappers. No sooner did the trio of
Kentucky hunters, Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, find that they could
once more be fitted out for a campaign of beaver−trapping, than they forgot
all that they had suffered, and determined upon another trial of their
fortunes; preferring to take their chance in the wilderness, rather than return
home ragged and penniless. As to Mr. Miller, he declared his curiosity and
his desire of travelling through the Indian countries fully satisfied; he
adhered to his determination, therefore, to keep on with the party to St.
Louis, and to return to the bosom of civilized society.

The three hunters, therefore, Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, were

furnished, as far as the caches and the means of Mr. Stuart's party afforded,
with the requisite munitions and equipments for a "two years' hunt;" but as
their fitting out was yet incomplete, they resolved to wait in this
neighborhood until Mr. Reed should arrive; whose arrival might soon be
expected, as he was to set out for the caches about twenty days after Mr.
Stuart parted with him at the Wallah−Wallah River.

Mr. Stuart gave in charge to Robinson a letter to Mr. Reed, reporting his
safe journey thus far, and the state in which he had found the caches. A
duplicate of this letter he elevated on a pole, and set it up near the place of
deposit.
CHAPTER XLV. 316

All things being thus arranged, Mr. Stuart and his little band, now seven in
number, took leave of the three hardy trappers, wishing them all possible
success in their lonely and perilous sojourn in the wilderness; and we, in
like manner, shall leave them to their fortunes, promising to take them up
again at some future page, and to close the story of their persevering and
ill− fated enterprise.

CHAPTER XLV.

The Snake River Deserts.− Scanty Fare.− Bewildered Travellers −

Prowling Indians− A Giant Crow Chief.− A Bully Rebuked− Indian
Signals.− Smoke on the Mountains.− Mad River.− An Alarm.− An Indian
Foray− A Scamper.− A Rude Indian joke.− A Sharp−Shooter Balked of His
Shot.

0N the 1st of September, Mr. Stuart and his companions resumed their
journey, bending their course eastward, along the course of Snake River.
As they advanced the country opened. The hills which had hemmed in the
river receded on either hand, and great sandy and dusty plains extended
before them. Occasionally there were intervals of pasturage, and the banks
of the river were fringed with willows and cottonwood, so that its course
might be traced from the hilltops, winding under an umbrageous covert,
through a wide sunburnt landscape. The soil, however, was generally poor;
there was in some places a miserable growth of wormwood, and a plant
called saltweed, resembling pennyroyal; but the summer had parched the
plains, and left but little pasturage. The game, too, had disappeared. The
hunter looked in vain over the lifeless landscape; now and then a few
antelope might be seen, but not within reach of the rifle. We forbear to
follow the travellers in a week's wandering over these barren wastes, where
they suffered much from hunger, having to depend upon a few fish from
the streams, and now and then a little dried salmon, or a dog, procured from
some forlorn lodge of Shoshonies.

Tired of these cheerless wastes, they left the banks of Snake River on the
7th of September, under guidance of Mr. Miller, who having acquired some
CHAPTER XLV. 317

knowledge of the country during his trapping campaign, undertook to

conduct them across the mountains by a better route than that by Fort
Henry, and one more out of the range of the Blackfeet. He proved,
however, but an indifferent guide, and they soon became bewildered among
rugged hills and unknown streams, and burnt and barren prairies.

At length they came to a river on which Mr. Miller had trapped, and to
which they gave his name; though, as before observed, we presume it to be
the same called Bear River, which empties itself into Lake Bonneville. Up
this river and its branches they kept for two or three days, supporting
themselves precariously upon fish. They soon found that they were in a
dangerous neighborhood. On the 12th of September, having encamped
early, they sallied forth with their rods to angle for their supper. On
returning, they beheld a number of Indians prowling about their camp,
whom, to their infinite disquiet, they soon perceived to be Upsarokas, or
Crows. Their chief came forward with a confident air. He was a dark
herculean fellow, full six feet four inches in height, with a mingled air of
the ruffian and the rogue. He conducted himself peaceably, however, and
despatched some of his people to their camp, which was somewhere in the
neighborhood, from whence they returned with a most acceptable supply of
buffalo meat. He now signified to Mr. Stuart that he was going to trade
with the Snakes who reside on the west base of the mountains, below
Henry's Fort. Here they cultivate a delicate kind of tobacco, much esteemed
and sought after by the mountain tribes. There was something sinister,
however, in the look of this Indian, that inspired distrust. By degrees, the
number of his people increased, until, by midnight, there were twenty−one
of them about the camp, who began to be impudent and troublesome. The
greatest uneasiness was now felt for the safety of the horses and effects, and
every one kept vigilant watch throughout the night.

The morning dawned, however, without any unpleasant occurrence, and

Mr. Stuart, having purchased all the buffalo meat that the Crows had to
spare, prepared to depart. His Indian acquaintances, however, were
disposed for further dealings; and above all, anxious for a supply of
gunpowder, for which they offered horses in exchange. Mr. Stuart declined
to furnish them with the dangerous commodity. They became more
CHAPTER XLV. 318

importunate in their solicitations, until they met with a flat refusal.

The gigantic chief now stepped forward, assumed a swelling air, and,
slapping himself upon the breast, gave Mr. Crooks to understand that he
was a chief of great power and importance. He signified, further, that it was
customary for great chiefs when they met, to make each other presents. He
requested, therefore, that Mr. Stuart would alight, and give him the horse
upon which he was mounted. This was a noble animal, of one of the wild
races of the prairies; on which Mr. Stuart set great value; he, of course,
shook his head at the request of the Crow dignitary. Upon this the latter
strode up to him, and taking hold of him, moved him backwards and
forwards in his saddle, as if to make him feel that he was a mere child
within his grasp. Mr. Stuart preserved his calmness, and still shook his
head. The chief then seized the bridle, and gave it a jerk that startled the
horse, and nearly brought the rider to the ground. Mr. Stuart instantly drew
forth a pistol, and presented it at the head of the bully−ruffian. In a
twinkling his swaggering was at an end, and he dodged behind his horse to
escape the expected shot. As his subject Crows gazed on the affray from a
little distance, Mr. Stuart ordered his men to level their rifles at them, but
not to fire. The whole crew scampered among the bushes, and throwing
themselves upon the ground, vanished from sight.

The chieftain thus left alone was confounded for an instant; but, recovering
himself with true Indian shrewdness, burst into a loud laugh, and affected
to turn off the whole matter as a piece of pleasantry. Mr. Stuart by no
means relished such equivocal joking, but it was not his policy to get into a
quarrel; so he joined with the best grace he could assume in the merriment
of the jocular giant; and, to console the latter for the refusal of the horse,
made him a present of twenty charges of powder. They parted, according to
all outward professions, the best friends in the world; it was evident,
however, that nothing but the smallness of his own force, and the martial
array and alertness of the white men, had prevented the Crow chief from
proceeding to open outrage. As it was, his worthy followers, in the course
of their brief interview, had contrived to purloin a bag containing almost all
the culinary utensils of the party.
CHAPTER XLV. 319

The travellers kept on their way due east, over a chain of hills. The recent
rencontre showed them that they were now in a land of danger, subject to
the wide roamings of a predacious tribe; nor, in fact, had they gone many
miles before they beheld sights calculated to inspire anxiety and alarm.
From the summits of some of the loftiest mountains, in different directions,
columns of smoke be−an to rise. These they concluded to be signals made
by the runners of the Crow chieftain, to summon the stragglers of his band,
so as to pursue them with greater force. Signals of this kind, made by
outrunners from one central point, will rouse a wide circuit of the
mountains in a wonderfully short space of time; and bring the straggling
hunters and warriors to the standard of their chieftain.

To keep as much as possible out of the way of these freebooters, Mr. Stuart
altered his course to the north, and, quitting the main stream of Miller's
River, kept up a large branch that came in from the mountains. Here they
encamped, after a fatiguing march of twenty−five miles. As the night drew
on, the horses were hobbled or fettered, and tethered close to the camp; a
vigilant watch was maintained until morning, and every one slept with his
rifle on his arm.

At sunrise, they were again on the march, still keeping to the north. They
soon began to ascend the mountains, and occasionally had wide prospects
over the surrounding country. Not a sign of a Crow was to be seen; but this
did not assure them of their security, well knowing the perseverance of
these savages in dogging any party they intend to rob, and the stealthy way
in which they can conceal their movements, keeping along ravines and
defiles. After a mountain scramble of twenty−one miles, they encamped on
the margin of a stream running to the north.

In the evening there was an alarm of Indians, and everyone was instantly on
the alert. They proved to be three miserable Snakes, who were no sooner
informed that a band of Crows was prowling in the neighborhood than they
made off with great signs of consternation.

A couple more of weary days and watchful nights brought them to a strong
and rapid stream, running due north, which they concluded to be one of the
CHAPTER XLV. 320

upper branches of Snake River. It was probably the same since called Salt
River.

They determined to bend their course down this river, as it would take them
still further out of the dangerous neighborhood of the Crows. They then
would strike upon Mr. Hunt's track of the preceding autumn, and retrace it
across the mountains. The attempt to find a better route under guidance of
Mr. Miller had cost them a large bend to the south; in resuming Mr. Hunt's
track, they would at least be sure of their road. They accordingly turned
down along the course of this stream, and at the end of three days' journey
came to where it was joined by a larger river, and assumed a more
impetuous character, raging and roaring among rocks and precipices. It
proved, in fact, to be Mad River, already noted in the expedition of Mr.
Hunt. On the banks of this river, they encamped on the 18th of September,
at an early hour.

Six days had now elapsed since their interview with the Crows; during that
time they had come nearly a hundred and fifty miles to the north and west,
without seeing any signs of those marauders. They considered themselves,
therefore, beyond the reach of molestation, and began to relax in their
vigilance, lingering occasionally for part of a day, where there was good
pasturage. The poor horses needed repose.

They had been urged on, by forced marches, over rugged heights, among
rocks and fallen timber, or over low swampy valleys, inundated by the
labors of the beaver. These industrious animals abounded in all the
mountain streams and watercourses, wherever there were willows for their
subsistence. Many of them they had so completely dammed up as to
inundate the low grounds, making shallow pools or lakes, and extensive
quagmires; by which the route of the travellers was often impeded.

On the 19th of September, they rose at early dawn; some began to prepare
breakfast, and others to arrange the packs preparatory to a march. The
horses had been hobbled, but left at large to graze upon the adjacent
pasture. Mr. Stuart was on the bank of a river, at a short distance from the
camp, when he heard the alarm cry − "Indians! Indians! −to arms! to arms!"
CHAPTER XLV. 321

A mounted Crow galloped past the camp, bearing a red flag. He reined his
steed on the summit of a neighboring knoll, and waved his flaring banner.
A diabolical yell now broke forth on the opposite side of the camp, beyond
where the horses were grazing, and a small troop of savages came galloping
up, whooping and making a terrific clamor. The horses took fright, and
dashed across the camp in the direction of the standard−bearer, attracted by
his waving flag. He instantly put spurs to his steed, and scoured off
followed by the panic−stricken herd, their fright being increased by the
yells of the savages in their rear.

At the first alarm, Mr. Stuart and his comrades had seized their rifles, and
attempted to cut off the Indians who were pursuing the horses. Their
attention was instantly distracted by whoops and yells in an opposite
direction.

They now apprehended that a reserve party was about to carry off their
baggage. They ran to secure it. The reserve party, however, galloped by,
whooping and yelling in triumph and derision. The last of them proved to
be their commander, the identical giant joker already mentioned. He was
not cast in the stern poetical mold of fashionable Indian heroism, but on the
contrary, was grievously given to vulgar jocularity. As he passed Mr. Stuart
and his companions, he checked his horse, raised himself in his saddle, and
clapping his hand on the most insulting part of his body, uttered some
jeering words, which, fortunately for their delicacy, they could not
understand. The rifle of Ben Jones was leveled in an instant, and he was on
the point of whizzing a bullet into the target so tauntingly displayed. "Not
for your life! not for your life!" exclaimed Mr. Stuart, "you will bring
destruction on us all!"

It was hard to restrain honest Ben, when the mark was so fair and the insult
so foul. "0, Mr. Stuart," exclaimed he, "only let me have one crack at the
infernal rascal, and you may keep all the pay that is due to me."

"By heaven, if you fire," cried Mr. Stuart, "I'll blow your brains out."
CHAPTER XLV. 322

By this time the Indian was far out of reach, and had rejoined his men, and
the whole dare−devil band, with the captured horses, scuttled off along the
defiles, their red flag flaunting overhead, and the rocks echoing to their
whoops and yells, and demoniac laughter.

The unhorsed travellers gazed after them in silent mortification and despair;
yet Mr. Stuart could not but admire the style and spirit with which the
whole exploit had been managed, and pronounced it one of the most daring
and intrepid actions he had ever heard of among Indians. The whole
number of the Crows did not exceed twenty. In this way a small gang of
lurkers will hurry off the cavalry of a large war party, for when once a
drove of horses are seized with panic, they become frantic, and nothing
short of broken necks can stop them.

No one was more annoyed by this unfortunate occurrence than Ben Jones.
He declared he would actually have given his whole arrears of pay,
amounting to upwards of a year's wages, rather than be balked of such a
capital shot. Mr. Stuart, however, represented what might have been the
consequence of so rash an act. Life for life is the Indian maxim. The whole
tribe would have made common cause in avenging the death of a warrior.
The party were but seven dismounted men, with a wide mountain region to
traverse, infested by these people, and which might all be roused by signal
fires. In fact, the conduct of the band of marauders in question, showed the
perseverance of savages when once they have fixed their minds upon a
project. These fellows had evidently been silent and secretly dogging the
party for a week past, and a distance of a hundred and fifty miles, keeping
out of sight by day, lurking about the encampment at night, watching all
their movements, and waiting for a favorable moment when they should be
off their guard. The menace of Mr. Stuart, in their first interview, to shoot
the giant chief with his pistol, and the fright caused among the warriors by
presenting the rifles, had probably added the stimulus of pique to their
usual horse− stealing propensities. And in this mood of mind they would
doubtless have followed the party throughout their whole course over the
Rocky Mountains, rather than be disappointed in their scheme.
CHAPTER XLVI. 323

CHAPTER XLVI.

Travellers Unhorsed− Pedestrian Preparations− Prying Spies.− Bonfires of

Baggage− A March on Foot.− Rafting a River − The Wounded Elk.−
Indian Trails.− Willful Conduct of Mr. M'Lellan.− Grand Prospect From a
Mountain.− Distant Craters of Volcanoes− Illness of Mr. Crooks.

FEW reverses in this changeful world are more complete and disheartening
than that of a traveller, suddenly unhorsed, in the midst of the wilderness.
Our unfortunate travellers contemplated their situation, for a time, in
perfect dismay. A long journey over rugged mountains and immeasurable
plains lay before them, which they must painfully perform on foot, and
everything necessary for subsistence or defense must be carried on their
shoulders. Their dismay, however, was but transient, and they immediately
set to work, with that prompt expediency produced by the exigencies of the
wilderness, to fit themselves for the change in their condition.

Their first attention was to select from their baggage such articles as were
indispensable to their journey; to make them up into convenient packs, and
to deposit the residue in caches. The whole day was consumed in these
occupations; at night, they made a scanty meal of their remaining
provisions, and lay down to sleep with heavy hearts. In the morning, they
were up and about at an early hour, and began to prepare their knapsacks
for a march, while Ben Jones repaired to an old beaver trap which he had
set in the river bank at some little distance from the camp. He was rejoiced
to find a middle−sized beaver there, sufficient for a morning's meal to his
hungry comrades. On his way back with his prize, he observed two heads
peering over the edge of an impending cliff, several hundred feet high,
which he supposed to be a couple of wolves. As he continued on, he now
and then cast his eye up; heads were still there, looking down with fixed
and watchful gaze. A suspicion now flashed across his mind that they might
be Indian scouts; and, had they not been far above the reach of his rifle, he
would undoubtedly have regaled them with a shot.

On arriving at the camp, he directed the attention of his comrades to these

aerial observers. The same idea was at first entertained, that they were
CHAPTER XLVI. 324

wolves; but their immovable watchfulness soon satisfied every one that
they were Indians. It was concluded that they were watching the
movements of the party, to discover their place of concealment of such
articles as they would be compelled to leave behind. There was no
likelihood that the caches would escape the search of such keen eyes and
experienced rummagers, and the idea was intolerable that any more booty
should fall into their hands. To disappoint them, therefore, the travellers
stripped the caches of the articles deposited there, and collecting together
everything that they could not carry away with them, made a bonfire of all
that would burn, and threw the rest into the river. There was a forlorn
satisfaction in thus balking the Crows, by the destruction of their own
property; and, having thus gratified their pique, they shouldered their packs,
about ten o'clock in the morning, and set out on their pedestrian wayfaring.

The route they took was down along the banks of Mad River. This stream
makes its way through the defiles of the mountains, into the plain below
Fort Henry, where it terminates in Snake River. Mr. Stuart was in hopes of
meeting with Snake encampments in the plain, where he might procure a
couple of horses to transport the baggage. In such case, he intended to
resume his eastern course across the mountains, and endeavor to reach the
Cheyenne River before winter. Should he fail, however, of obtaining
horses, he would probably be compelled to winter on the Pacific side of the
mountains, somewhere on the head waters of the Spanish or Colorado
River.

With all the care that had been observed in taking nothing with them that
was not absolutely necessary, the poor pedestrians were heavily laden, and
their burdens added to the fatigues of their rugged road. They suffered
much, too, from hunger. The trout they caught were too poor to yield much
nourishment; their main dependence, therefore, was upon an old beaver
trap, which they had providentially retained. Whenever they were fortunate
enough to entrap a beaver, it was cut up immediately and distributed, that
each man might carry his share.

After two days of toilsome travel, during which they made but eighteen
miles, they stopped on the 21st, to build two rafts on which to cross to the
CHAPTER XLVI. 325

north side of the river. On these they embarked on the following morning,
four on one raft, and three on the other , and pushed boldly from shore.
Finding the rafts sufficiently firm and steady to withstand the rough and
rapid water, they changed their minds, and instead of crossing, ventured to
float down with the current. The river was, in general, very rapid, and from
one to two hundred yards in width, winding in every direction through
mountains of hard black rock, covered with pines and cedars. The
mountains to the east of the river were spurs of the Rocky range, and of
great magnitude; those on the west were little better than hills, bleak and
barren, or scantily clothed with stunted grass.

Mad River, though deserving its name from the impetuosity of its current,
was free from rapids and cascades, and flowed on in a single channel
between gravel banks, often fringed with cotton− wood and dwarf willows
in abundance. These gave sustenance to immense quantities of beaver, so
that the voyagers found no difficulty in procuring food. Ben Jones, also,
killed a fallow deer and a wolverine, and as they were enabled to carry the
carcasses on their rafts, their larder was well supplied. Indeed, they might
have occasionally shot beavers that were swimming in the river as they
floated by, but they humanely spared their lives, being in no want of meat
at the time. In this way, they kept down the river for three days, drifting
with the current and encamping on land at night, when they drew up their
rafts on shore. Towards the evening of the third day, they came to a little
island on which they descried a gang of elk. Ben Jones landed, and was
fortunate enough to wound one, which immediately took to the water, but,
being unable to stem the current, drifted above a mile, when it was
overtaken and drawn to shore. As a storm was gathering, they now
encamped on the margin of the river, where they remained all the next day,
sheltering themselves as well as they could from the rain and snow − a
sharp foretaste of the impending winter. During their encampment, they
employed themselves in jerking a part of the elk for future supply. In
cutting up the carcass, they found that the animal had been wounded by
hunters, about a week previously, an arrow head and a musket ball
remaining in the wounds. In the wilderness, every trivial circumstance is a
matter of anxious speculation. The Snake Indians have no guns; the elk,
therefore, could not have been wounded by one of them. They were on the
CHAPTER XLVI. 326

borders of the country infested by the Blackfeet, who carry fire−arms. It

was concluded, therefore, that the elk had been hunted by some of that
wandering and hostile tribe, who, of course, must be in the neighborhood.
The idea put an end to the transient solace they had enjoyed in the
comparative repose and abundance of the river.

For three days longer they continued to navigate with their rafts. The recent
storm had rendered the weather extremely cold. They had now floated
down the river about ninety−one miles, when finding the mountains on the
right diminished to moderate sized hills, they landed, and prepared to
resume their journey on foot. Accordingly, having spent a day in
preparations, making moccasins, and parceling out their jerked meat in
packs of twenty pounds to each man, they turned their backs upon the river
on the 29th of September and struck off to the northeast, keeping along the
southern skirt of the mountain on which Henry's Fort was situated.

Their march was slow and toilsome; part of the time through an alluvial
bottom, thickly grown with cotton−wood, hawthorn, and willows, and part
of the time over rough hills. Three antelopes came within shot, but they
dared not fire at them, lest the report of their rifles should betray them to
the Blackfeet. In the course of the day, they came upon a large horse−track,
apparently about three weeks old, and in the evening encamped on the
banks of a small stream, on a spot which had been the camping place of this
same band.

On the following morning they still observed the Indian track, but after a
time they came to where it separated in every direction, and was lost. This
showed that the band had dispersed in various hunting parties, and was, in
all probability, still in the neighborhood; it was necessary, therefore, to
proceed with the utmost caution. They kept a vigilant eye as they marched,
upon every height where a scout might be posted, and scanned the solitary
landscapes and the distant ravines, to observe any column of smoke; but
nothing of the kind was to be seen; all was indescribably stern and lifeless.

Towards evening they came to where there were several hot springs,
strongly impregnated with iron and sulphur, and sending up a volume of
CHAPTER XLVI. 327

vapor that tainted the surrounding atmosphere, and might be seen at the
distance of a couple of miles.

Near to these they encamped in a deep gully, which afforded some

concealment. To their great concern, Mr. Crooks, who had been indisposed
for the two preceding days, had a violent fever in the night.

Shortly after daybreak they resumed their march. On emerging from the
glen, a consultation was held as to their course. Should they continue round
the skirt of the mountain, they would be in danger of falling in with the
scattered parties of Blackfeet, who were probably hunting in the plain. It
was thought most advisable, therefore, to strike directly across the
mountain, since the route, though rugged and difficult, would be most
secure. This counsel was indignantly derided by M'Lellan as pusillanimous.
Hot−headed and impatient at all times, he had been rendered irascible by
the fatigues of the journey, and the condition of his feet, which were chafed
and sore. He could not endure the idea of encountering the difficulties of
the mountain, and swore he would rather face all the Blackfeet in the
country. He was overruled, however, and the party began to ascend the
mountain, striving, with the ardor and emulation of young men, who should
be first up. M'Lellan, who was double the age of some of his companions,
soon began to lose breath, and fall in the rear. In the distribution of burdens,
it was his turn to carry the old beaver trap. Piqued and irritated, he suddenly
came to a halt, swore he would carry it no further, and jerked it half−way
down the hill. He was offered in place of it a package of dried meat, but
this he scornfully threw upon the ground. They might carry it, he said, who
needed it; for his part, he could provide his daily bread with his rifle. He
concluded by flinging off from the party, and keeping along the skirts of
the mountain, leaving those, he said, to climb rocks, who were afraid to
face Indians. It was in vain that Mr. Stuart represented to him the rashness
of his conduct, and the dangers to which he exposed himself: he rejected
such counsel as craven. It was equally useless to represent the dangers to
which he subjected his companions; as he could be discovered at a great
distance on those naked plains, and the Indians, seeing him, would know
that there must be other white men within reach. M'Lellan turned a deaf ear
to every remonstrance, and kept on his wilful way.
CHAPTER XLVI. 328

It seemed a strange instance of perverseness in this man thus to fling

himself off alone, in a savage region, where solitude itself was dismal, and
every encounter with his fellow−man full of peril. Such, however, is the
hardness of spirit, and the insensibility to danger that grow upon men in the
wilderness. M'Lellan, moreover, was a man of peculiar temperament,
ungovernable in his will, of a courage that absolutely knew no fear, and
somewhat of a braggart spirit, that took a pride in doing desperate and
hair−brained things.

Mr. Stuart and his party found the passages of the mountain somewhat
difficult, on account of the snow, which in many places was of considerable
depth, though it was but the 1 st of October. They crossed the summit early
in the afternoon, and beheld below them, a plain about twenty miles wide,
bounded on the opposite side by their old acquaintances, the Pilot Knobs,
those towering mountains which had served Mr. Hunt as landmarks in part
of his route of the preceding year. Through the intermediate plain wandered
a river about fifty yards wide, sometimes gleaming in open day, but oftener
running through willowed banks, which marked its serpentine course.

Those of the party who had been across these mountains, pointed out much
of the bearings of the country to Mr. Stuart. They showed him in what
direction must lie the deserted post called Henry's Fort, where they had
abandoned their horses and embarked in canoes, and they informed him
that the stream which wandered through the plain below them, fell into
Henry River, half way between the fort and the mouth of Mad or Snake
River. The character of all this mountain region was decidedly volcanic;
and to the northwest, between Henry's Fort and the source of the Missouri,
Mr. Stuart observed several very high peaks covered with snow, from two
of which smoke ascended in considerable volumes, apparently from craters
in a state of eruption.

On their way down the mountain, when they had reached the skirts, they
descried M'Lellan at a distance, in the advance, traversing the plain.
Whether he saw them or not, he showed no disposition to rejoin them, but
pursued his sullen and solitary way.
CHAPTER XLVII. 329

After descending into the plain, they kept on about six miles, until they
reached the little river, which was here about knee deep, and richly fringed
with willow. Here they encamped for the night. At this encampment the
fever of Mr. Crooks increased to such a degree that it was impossible for
him to travel. Some of the men were strenuous for Mr. Stuart to proceed
without him, urging the imminent danger they were exposed to by delay in
that unknown and barren region, infested by the most treacherous and
inveterate foes. They represented that the season was rapidly advancing; the
weather for some days had been extremely cold; the mountains were
already almost impassable from snow, and would soon present effectual
barriers. Their provisions were exhausted; there was no game to be seen,
and they did not dare to use their rifles, through fear of drawing upon them
the Blackfeet.

The picture thus presented was too true to be contradicted, and made a deep
impression on the mind of Mr. Stuart; but the idea of abandoning a fellow
being, and a comrade, in such a forlorn situation, was too repugnant to his
feelings to be admitted for an instant. He represented to the men that the
malady of Mr. Crooks could not be of long duration, and that, in all
probability, he would be able to travel in the course of a few days. It was
with great difficulty, however, that he prevailed upon them to abide the
event.

CHAPTER XLVII.

Ben Jones and a Grizzly Bear.− Rocky Heights− Mountain Torrents.

−Traces of M'Lellan.− Volcanic Remains− Mineral Earths.− Peculiar Clay
for Pottery.− Dismal Plight of M'Lellan.− Starvation.− Shocking
Proposition of a Desperate Man.− A Broken−Down Bull.− A Ravenous
Meal.−Indian Graves− Hospitable Snakes.−A Forlorn Alliance.

AS the travellers were now in a dangerous neighborhood, where the report

of a rifle might bring the savages upon them, they had to depend upon their
old beaver−trap for subsistence. The little river on which they were
encamped gave many "beaver signs," and Ben Jones set off at daybreak,
CHAPTER XLVII. 330

along the willowed banks, to find a proper trapping−place. As he was

making his way among the thickets, with his trap on his shoulder and his
rifle in his hand, he heard a crushing sound, and turning, beheld a huge
grizzly bear advancing upon him, with terrific growl. The sturdy
Kentuckian was not to be intimidated by man or monster. Leveling his rifle,
he pulled the trigger. The bear was wounded, but not mortally: instead,
however, of rushing upon his assailant, as is generally the case with this
kind of bear, he retreated into the bushes. Jones followed him for some
distance, but with suitable caution, and Bruin effected his escape.

As there was every prospect of a detention of some days in this place, and
as the supplies of the beaver−trap were too precarious to be depended upon,
it became absolutely necessary to run some risk of discovery by hunting in
the neighborhood. Ben Jones, therefore, obtained permission to range with
his rifle some distance from the camp, and set off to beat up the river banks,
in defiance of bear or Blackfeet.

He returned in great spirits in the course of a few hours, having come upon
a gang of elk about six. miles off, and killed five. This was joyful news, and
the party immediately moved forward to the place where he had left the
carcasses. They were obliged to support Mr. Crooks the whole distance, for
he was unable to walk. Here they remained for two or three days, feasting
heartily on elk meat, and drying as much as they would be able to carry
away with them.

By the 5th of October, some simple prescriptions, together with an "Indian

sweat," had so far benefited Mr. Crooks, that he was enabled to move
about; they therefore set forward slowly, dividing his pack and
accoutrements among them, and made a creeping day's progress of eight
miles south. Their route for the most part lay through swamps caused by
the industrious labors of the beaver; for this little animal had dammed up
numerous small streams, issuing from the Pilot Knob Mountains, so that the
low grounds on their borders were completely inundated. In the course of
their march they killed a grizzly bear, with fat on its flanks upwards of
three inches in thickness. This was an acceptable addition to their stock of
elk meat. The next day Mr. Crooks was sufficiently recruited in strength to
CHAPTER XLVII. 331

be able to carry his rifle and pistols, and they made a march of seventeen
miles along the borders of the plain.

Their journey daily became more toilsome, and their sufferings more
severe, as they advanced. Keeping up the channel of a river, they traversed
the rugged summit of the Pilot Knob Mountain, covered with snow nine
inches deep. For several days they continued, bending their course as much
as possible to the east, over a succession of rocky heights, deep valleys, and
rapid streams. Sometimes their dizzy path lay along the margin of
perpendicular precipices, several hundred feet in height, where a single
false step might precipitate them into the rocky bed of a torrent which
roared below. Not the least part of their weary task was the fording of the
numerous windings and branchings of the mountain rivers, all boisterous in
their currents, and icy cold.

Hunger was added to their other sufferings, and soon became the keenest.
The small supply of bear and elk meat which they had been able to carry, in
addition to their previous burdens, served but for a short time. In their
anxiety to struggle forward, they had but little time to hunt, and scarce any
game in their path. For three days they had nothing to eat but a small duck,
and a few poor trout. They occasionally saw numbers of the antelopes, and
tried every art to get within shot; but the timid animals were more than
commonly wild, and after tantalizing the hungry hunters for a time,
bounded away beyond all chance of pursuit. At length they were fortunate
enough to kill one: it was extremely meagre, and yielded but a scanty
supply; but on this they subsisted for several days.

On the 11th, they encamped on a small stream, near the foot of the Spanish
River Mountain. Here they met with traces of that wayward and solitary
being, M'Lellan, who was still keeping on ahead of them through these
lonely mountains. He had encamped the night before on this stream; they
found the embers of the fire by which he had slept, and the remains of a
miserable wolf on which he had supped. It was evident he had suffered, like
themselves, the pangs of hunger, though he had fared better at this
encampment; for they had not a mouthful to eat.
CHAPTER XLVII. 332

The next day, they rose hungry and alert, and set out with the dawn to
climb the mountain, which was steep and difficult. Traces of volcanic
eruptions were to be seen in various directions. There was a species of clay
also to be met with, out of which the Indians manufactured pots and jars,
and dishes. It is very fine and light, of an agreeable smell, and of a brown
color spotted with yellow, and dissolves readily in the mouth. Vessels
manufactured of it are said to impart a pleasant smell and flavor to any
liquids. These mountains abound also with mineral earths, or chalks of
various colors; especially two kinds of ochre, one a pale, the other a bright
red, like vermilion; much used by the Indians, in painting their bodies.

About noon, the travellers reached the "drains" and brooks that formed the
head waters of the river, and later in the day, descended to where the main
body, a shallow stream, about a hundred and sixty yards wide, poured
through its mountain valley.

Here the poor famishing wanderers had expected to find buffalo in

abundance, and had fed their hungry hopes during their scrambling toll,
with the thoughts of roasted ribs, juicy humps, and broiled marrow bones.
To their great disappointment, the river banks were deserted − a few old
tracks showed where a herd of bulls had some time before passed along,
but not a horn nor hump was to be seen in the sterile landscape. A few
antelopes looked down upon them from the brow of a crag, but flitted away
out of sight at the least approach of the hunter.

In the most starving mood they kept for several miles further along the
bank of the river, seeking for "beaver signs." Finding some, they encamped
in the vicinity, and Ben Jones immediately proceeded to set the trap. They
had scarce come to a halt, when they perceived a large smoke at some
distance to the southwest. The sight was hailed with joy, for they trusted it
might rise from some Indian camp, where they could procure something to
eat, and the dread of starvation had now overcome even the terror of the
Blackfeet. Le Clerc, one of the Canadians, was instantly despatched by Mr.
Stuart, to reconnoitre; and the travellers sat up till a late hour, watching and
listening for his return, hoping he might bring them food. Midnight arrived,
but Le Clerc did not make his appearance, and they laid down once more
CHAPTER XLVII. 333

supperless to sleep, comforting themselves with the hopes that their old
beaver trap might furnish them with a breakfast.

At daybreak they hastened with famished eagerness to the trap. They found
in it the forepaw of a beaver, the sight of which tantalized their hunger, and
added to their dejection. They resumed their journey with flagging spirits,
but had not gone far when they perceived Le Clerc approaching at a
distance. They hastened to meet him, in hopes of tidings of good cheer. He
had none to give them; but news of that strange wanderer, M'Lellan. The
smoke had risen from his encampment which took fire while he was at a
little distance from it fishing. Le Clerc found him in forlorn condition. His
fishing had been unsuccessful. During twelve days that he had been
wandering alone through these savage mountains, he had found scarce
anything to eat. He had been ill, wayworn, sick at heart, still he had kept
forward; but now his strength and his stubbornness were exhausted. He
expressed his satisfaction at hearing that Mr. Stuart and his party were near,
and said he would wait at his camp for their arrival, in hopes they would
give him something to eat, for without food he declared he should not be
able to proceed much further.

When the party reached the place, they found the poor fellow lying on a
parcel of withered grass, wasted to a perfect skeleton, and so feeble that he
could scarce raise his head or speak. The presence of his old comrades
seemed to revive him, but they had no food to give him, for they
themselves were almost starving. They urged him to rise and accompany
them, but he shook his head. It was all in vain, he said; there was no
prospect of their getting speedy relief, and without it he should perish by
the way; he might as well, therefore, stay and die where he was. At length,
after much persuasion, they got him upon his legs; his rifle and other
effects were shared among them, and he was cheered and aided forward. In
this way they proceeded for seventeen miles, over a level plain of sand,
until seeing a few antelopes in the distance, they encamped on the margin
of a small stream. All now that were capable of the exertion, turned out to
hunt for a meal. Their efforts were fruitless, and after dark they returned to
their camp, famished almost to desperation.
CHAPTER XLVII. 334

As they were preparing for the third time to lay down to sleep without a
mouthful to eat, Le Clerc, one of the Canadians, gaunt and wild with
hunger, approached Mr. Stuart with his gun in his hand. "It was all in vain,"
he said, "to attempt to proceed any further without food. They had a barren
plain before them, three or four days' journey in extent, on which nothing
was to be procured. They must all perish before they could get to the end of
it. It was better, therefore, that one should die to save the rest." He
proposed, therefore, that they should cast lots; adding, as an inducement for
Mr. Stuart to assent to the proposition, that he, as leader of the party, should
be exempted.

Mr. Stuart shuddered at the horrible proposition, and endeavored to reason

with the man, but his words were unavailing. At length, snatching up his
rifle, he threatened to shoot him on the spot if he persisted. The famished
wretch dropped on his knees, begged pardon in the most abject terms, and
promised never again to offend him with such a suggestion.

Quiet being restored to the forlorn encampment, each one sought repose.
Mr. Stuart, however, was so exhausted by the agitation of the past scene,
acting upon his emaciated frame, that he could scarce crawl to his
miserable couch; where, notwithstanding his fatigues, he passed a sleepless
night, revolving upon their dreary situation, and the desperate prospect
before them.

Before daylight the next morning, they were up and on their way; they had
nothing to detain them; no breakfast to prepare, and to linger was to perish.
They proceeded, however, but slowly, for all were faint and weak. Here and
there they passed the skulls and bones of buffaloes, which showed that
these animals must have been hunted here during the past season; the sight
of these bones served only to mock their misery. After travelling about nine
miles along the plain, they ascended a range of hills, and had scarcely gone
two miles further, when, to their great joy, they discovered "an old
run−down buffalo bull;" the laggard probably of some herd that had been
hunted and harassed through the mountains. They now all stretched
themselves out to encompass and make sure of this solitary animal, for their
lives depended upon their success. After considerable trouble and infinite
CHAPTER XLVII. 335

anxiety, they at length succeeded in killing him. He was instantly flayed

and cut up, and so ravenous was their hunger, that they devoured some of
the flesh raw. The residue they carried to a brook near by, where they
encamped, lit a fire, and began to cook.

Mr. Stuart was fearful that in their famished state they would eat to excess
and injure themselves. He caused a soup to be made of some of the meat,
and that each should take a quantity of it as a prelude to his supper. This
may have had a beneficial effect, for though they sat up the greater part of
the night, cooking and cramming, no one suffered any inconvenience.

The next morning the feasting was resumed, and about midday, feeling
somewhat recruited and refreshed, they set out on their journey with
renovated spirits, shaping their course towards a mountain, the summit of
which they saw towering in the east, and near to which they expected to
find the head waters of the Missouri.

As they proceeded, they continued to see the skeletons of buffaloes

scattered about the plain in every direction, which showed that there had
been much hunting here by the Indians in the recent season. Further on they
crossed a large Indian trail forming a deep path, about fifteen days old,
which went in a north direction. They concluded it to have been made by
some numerous band of Crows, who had hunted in this country for the
greater part of the summer.

On the following day they forded a stream of considerable magnitude, with

banks clothed with pine trees. Among these they found the traces of a large
Indian camp, which had evidently been the headquarters of a hunting
expedition, from the great quantities of buffalo bones strewed about the
neighborhood. The camp had apparently been abandoned about a month.

In the centre was a singular lodge one hundred and fifty feet in
circumference, supported by the trunks of twenty trees, about twelve inches
in diameter and forty−four feet long. Across these were laid branches of
pine and willow trees, so as to yield a tolerable shade. At the west end,
immediately opposite to the door, three bodies lay interred with their feet
CHAPTER XLVII. 336

towards the east. At the head of each was a branch of red cedar firmly
planted in the ground. At the foot was a large buffalo's skull, painted black.
Savage ornaments were suspended in various parts of the edifice, and a
great number of children's moccasins. From the magnitude of this building,
and the time and labor that must have been expended in erecting it, the
bodies which it contained were probably those of noted warriors and
hunters.

The next day, October 17th, they passed two large tributary streams of the
Spanish River. They took their rise in the Wind River Mountains, which
ranged along to the east, stupendously high and rugged, composed of vast
masses of black rock, almost destitute of wood, and covered in many places
with snow. This day they saw a few buffalo bulls, and some antelopes, but
could not kill any; and their stock of provisions began to grow scanty as
well as poor.

On the 18th, after crossing a mountain ridge, and traversing a plain, they
waded one of the branches of Spanish River, and on ascending its bank,
met with about a hundred and thirty Snake Indians. They were friendly in
their demeanor, and conducted them to their encampment, which was about
three miles distant. It consisted of about forty wigwams, constructed
principally of pine branches. The Snakes, like most of their nation, were
very poor; the marauding Crows, in their late excursion through the
country, had picked this unlucky band to the very bone, carrying off their
horses, several of their squaws, and most of their effects. In spite of their
poverty, they were hospitable in the extreme, and made the hungry
strangers welcome to their cabins. A few trinkets procured from them a
supply of buffalo meat, and of leather for moccasins, of which the party
were greatly in need. The most valuable prize obtained from them,
however, was a horse; it was a sorry old animal in truth, but it was the only
one that remained to the poor fellows, after the fell swoop of the Crows; yet
this they were prevailed upon to part with to their guests for a pistol, an
axe, a knife, and a few other trifling articles.

They had doleful stories to tell of the Crows, who were encamped on a
river at no great distance to the east, and were in such force that they dared
CHAPTER XLVIII. 337

not venture to seek any satisfaction for their outrages, or to get back a horse
or squaw. They endeavored to excite the indignation of their visitors by
accounts of robberies and murders committed on lonely white hunters and
trappers by Crows and Blackfeet. Some of these were exaggerations of the
outrages already mentioned, sustained by some of the scattered members of
Mr. Hunt's expedition; others were in all probability sheer fabrications, to
which the Snakes seem to have been a little prone. Mr. Stuart assured them
that the day was not far distant when the whites would make their power to
be felt throughout that country, and take signal vengeance on the
perpetrators of these misdeeds. The Snakes expressed great joy at the
intelligence, and offered their services to aid the righteous cause,
brightening at the thoughts of taking the field with such potent allies, and
doubtless anticipating their turn at stealing horses and abducting squaws.
Their offers, of course, were accepted; the calumet of peace was produced,
and the two forlorn powers smoked eternal friendship between themselves,
and vengeance upon their common spoilers, the Crows.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Spanish River Scenery.−Trail of Crow Indians.− A Snow−Storm.− A

Rousing Fire and a Buffalo Feast.−A Plain of Salt.−Climbing a Mountain.
−Volcanic Summit.− Extinguished Crater.− Marine Shells.− Encampment
on a Prairie. − Successful Hunting.− Good Cheer.− Romantic Scenery −
Rocky Defile.− Foaming Rapids.− The Fiery Narrows.

BY sunrise on the following morning (October 19th) , the travellers had

loaded their old horse with buffalo meat, sufficient for five days'
provisions, and, taking leave of their new allies, the poor, but hospitable
Snakes, set forth in somewhat better spirits, though the increasing cold of
the weather, and the sight of the snowy mountains which they had yet to
traverse, were enough to chill their very hearts. The country along this
branch of the Spanish River, as far as they could see, was perfectly level,
bounded by ranges of lofty mountains, both to the east and west. They
proceeded about three miles to the south, where they came again upon the
large trail of Crow Indians, which they had crossed four days previously,
CHAPTER XLVIII. 338

made, no doubt, by the same marauding band that had plundered the
Snakes; and which, according to the account of the latter, was now
encamped on a stream to the eastward. The trail kept on to the southeast,
and was so well beaten by horse and foot, that they supposed at least a
hundred lodges had passed along it. As it formed, therefore, a convenient
highway, and ran in a proper direction, they turned into it, and determined
to keep along it as far as safety would permit: as the Crow encampment
must be some distance off, and it was not likely those savages would return
upon their steps. They travelled forward, therefore, all that day, in the track
of their dangerous predecessors, which led them across mountain streams,
and long ridges, and through narrow valleys, all tending generally towards
the southeast. The wind blew coldly from the northeast, with occasional
flurries of snow, which made them encamp early, on the sheltered banks of
a brook. The two Canadians, Vallee and Le Clerc, killed a young buffalo
bull in the evening, which was in good condition, and afforded them a
plentiful supply of fresh beef. They loaded their spits, therefore, and
crammed their camp kettle with meat, and while the wind whistled, and the
snow whirled around them, huddled round a rousing fire, basked in its
warmth, and comforted both soul and body with a hearty and invigorating
meal. No enjoyments have greater zest than these, snatched in the very
midst of difficulty and danger; and it is probable the poor wayworn and
weather− beaten travellers relished these creature comforts the more highly
from the surrounding desolation, and the dangerous proximity of the
Crows.

The snow which had fallen in the night made it late in the morning before
the party loaded their solitary packhorse, and resumed their march. They
had not gone far before the Crow trace which they were following changed
its direction, and bore to the north of east. They had already begun to feel
themselves on dangerous ground in keeping along it, as they might be
descried by some scouts and spies of that race of Ishmaelites, whose
predatory life required them to be constantly on the alert. On seeing the
trace turn so much to the north, therefore, they abandoned it, and kept on
their course to the southeast for eighteen miles, through a beautifully
undulating country, having the main chain of mountains on the left, and a
considerably elevated ridge on the right. Here the mountain ridge which
CHAPTER XLVIII. 339

divides Wind River from the head waters of the Columbia and Spanish
Rivers, ends abruptly, and winding to the north of east, becomes the
dividing barrier between a branch of the Big Horn and Cheyenne Rivers,
and those head waters which flow into the Missouri below the Sioux
country.

The ridge which lay on the right of the travellers having now become very
low, they passed over it, and came into a level plain, about ten miles in
circumference, and incrusted to the depth of a foot or eighteen inches with
salt as white as snow. This is furnished by numerous salt springs of limpid
water, which are continually welling up, overflowing their borders, and
forming beautiful crystallizations. The Indian tribes of the interior are
excessively fond of this salt, and repair to the valley to collect it, but it is
held in distaste by the tribes of the sea−coast, who will eat nothing that has
been cured or seasoned by it.

This evening they encamped on the banks of a small stream, in the open
prairie. The northeast wind was keen and cutting; they had nothing
wherewith to make a fire, but a scanty growth of sage, or wormwood, and
were fain to wrap themselves up in their blankets, and huddle themselves in
their "nests," at an early hour. In the course of the evening, Mr. M'Lellan,
who had now regained his strength, killed a buffalo, but it was some
distance from the camp, and they postponed supplying themselves from the
carcass until the following morning.

The next day (October 21st) , the cold continued, accompanied by snow.
They set forward on their bleak and toilsome way, keeping to the east
northeast, towards the lofty summit of a mountain, which it was necessary
for them to cross. Before they reached its base they passed another large
trail, steering a little to the right of the point of the mountain. This they
presumed to have been made by another band of Crows, who had probably
been hunting lower down on the Spanish River.

The severity of the weather compelled them to encamp at the end of fifteen
miles, on the skirts of the mountain, where they found sufficient dry aspen
trees to supply them with fire, but they sought in vain about the
CHAPTER XLVIII. 340

neighborhood for a spring or rill of water.

At daybreak they were up and on the march, scrambling up the mountain

side for the distance of eight painful miles. From the casual hints given in
the travelling memoranda of Mr. Stuart, this mountain would seem to offer
a rich field of speculation for the geologist. Here was a plain three miles in
diameter, strewed with pumice stones and other volcanic reliques, with a
lake in the centre, occupying what had probably been the crater. Here were
also, in some places, deposits of marine shells, indicating that this mountain
crest had at some remote period been below the waves.

After pausing to repose, and to enjoy these grand but savage and awful
scenes, they began to descend the eastern side of the mountain. The descent
was rugged and romantic, along deep ravines and defiles, overhung with
crags and cliffs, among which they beheld numbers of the ahsahta or
bighorn, skipping fearlessly from rock to rock. Two of them they succeeded
in bringing down with their rifles, as they peered fearlessly from the brow
of their airy precipices.

Arrived at the foot of the mountain, the travellers found a rill of water
oozing out of the earth, and resembling in look and taste, the water of the
Missouri. Here they encamped for the night, and supped sumptuously upon
their mountain mutton, which they found in good condition, and extremely
well tasted.

The morning was bright, and intensely cold. Early in the day they came
upon a stream running to the east, between low hills of bluish earth,
strongly impregnated with copperas. Mr. Stuart supposed this to be one of
the head waters of the Missouri, and determined to follow its banks. After a
march of twenty−six miles, however, he arrived at the summit of a hill, the
prospect of which induced him to alter his intention. He beheld, in every
direction south of east, a vast plain, bounded only by the horizon, through
which wandered the stream in question, in a south−south−east direction. It
could not, therefore, be a branch of the Missouri. He now gave up all idea
of taking the stream for his guide, and shaped his course towards a range of
mountains in the east, about sixty miles distant, near which he hoped to find
CHAPTER XLVIII. 341

another stream.

The weather was now so severe, and the hardships of travelling so great,
that he resolved to halt for the winter, at the first eligible place. That night
they had to encamp on the open prairie, near a scanty pool of water, and
without any wood to make a fire. The northeast wind blew keenly across
the naked waste, and they were fain to decamp from their inhospitable
bivouac before the dawn.

For two days they kept on in an eastward direction, against wintry blasts
and occasional snow storms. They suffered, also, from scarcity of water,
having occasionally to use melted snow; this, with the want of pasturage,
reduced their old pack−horse sadly. They saw many tracks of buffalo, and
some few bulls, which, however, got the wind of them, and scampered off.

On the 26th of October, they steered east−northeast, for a wooded ravine in

a mountain, at a small distance from the base of which, to their great joy,
they discovered an abundant stream, running between willowed banks.
Here they halted for the night, and Ben Jones having luckily trapped a
beaver, and killed two buffalo bulls, they remained all the next day
encamped, feasting and reposing, and allowing their jaded horse to rest
from his labors.

The little stream on which they were encamped, was one of the head waters
of the Platte River, which flows into the Missouri; it was, in fact, the
northern fork, or branch of that river, though this the travellers did not
discover until long afterwards. Pursuing the course of this stream for about
twenty miles, they came to where it forced a passage through a range of
high hills, covered with cedars, into an extensive low country, affording
excellent pasture to numerous herds of buffalo. Here they killed three cows,
which were the first they had been able to get, having hitherto had to
content themselves with bull beef, which at this season of the year is very
poor. The hump meat afforded them a repast fit for an epicure.

Late on the afternoon of the 30th, they came to where the stream, now
increased to a considerable size, poured along in a ravine between
CHAPTER XLIX. 342

precipices of red stone, two hundred feet in height. For some distance it
dashed along, over huge masses of rock, with foaming violence, as if
exasperated by being compressed into so narrow a channel, and at length
leaped down a chasm that looked dark and frightful in the gathering
twilight.

For a part of the next day, the wild river, in its capricious wanderings, led
them through a variety of striking scenes. At one time they were upon high
plains, like platforms among the mountains, with herds of buffaloes
roaming about them; at another among rude rocky defiles, broken into cliffs
and precipices, where the blacktailed deer bounded off among the crags,
and the bighorn basked in the sunny brow of the precipice.

In the after part of the day, they came to another scene, surpassing in
savage grandeur those already described. They had been travelling for some
distance through a pass of the mountains, keeping parallel with the river, as
it roared along, out of sight, through a deep ravine. Sometimes their
devious path approached the margin of cliffs below which the river foamed,
and boiled, and whirled among the masses of rock that had fallen into its
channel. As they crept cautiously on, leading their solitary pack−horse
along these giddy heights, they all at once came to where the river
thundered down a succession of precipices, throwing up clouds of spray,
and making a prodigious din and uproar. The travellers remained, for a
time, gazing with mingled awe and delight, at this furious cataract, to which
Mr. Stuart gave, from the color of the impending rocks, the name of "The
Fiery Narrows."

CHAPTER XLIX.

Wintry Storms.− A Halt and Council.− Cantonment for the Winter. − Fine
Hunting Country.− Game of the Mountains and Plains.− Successful
Hunting− Mr. Crooks and a Grizzly Bear.− The Wigwam. − Bighorn and
Black−Tails.− Beef and Venison.− Good Quarters and Good Cheer.− An
Alarm.− An Intrusion.− Unwelcome Guests.− Desolation of the Larder. −
Gormandizing Exploits of Hungry Savages. − Good Quarters Abandoned.
CHAPTER XLIX. 343

THE travellers encamped for the night on the banks of the river below the
cataract. The night was cold, with partial showers of rain and sleet. The
morning dawned gloomily, the skies were sullen and overcast, and
threatened further storms; but the little band resumed their journey, in
defiance of the weather. The increasing rigor of the season, however, which
makes itself felt early in these mountainous regions, and on these naked and
elevated plains, brought them to a pause, and a serious deliberation, after
they had descended about thirty miles further along the course of the river.

All were convinced that it was in vain to attempt to accomplish their

journey, on foot, at this inclement season. They had still many hundred
miles to traverse before they should reach the main course of the Missouri,
and their route would lay over immense prairies, naked and bleak, and
destitute of fuel. The question then was, where to choose their wintering
place, and whether or not to proceed further down the river. They had at
first imagined it to be one of the head waters, or tributary streams, of the
Missouri. Afterwards they had believed it to be the Rapid, or Quicourt
River, in which opinion they had not come nearer to the truth; they now,
however, were persuaded, with equal fallacy, by its inclining somewhat to
the north of east, that it was the Cheyenne. If so, by continuing down it
much further they must arrive among the Indians, from whom the river
takes its name. Among these they would be sure to meet some of the Sioux
tribe. These would appraise their relatives, the piratical Sioux of the
Missouri, of the approach of a band of white traders; so that, in the spring
time, they would be likely to be waylaid and robbed on their way down the
river, by some party in ambush upon its banks.

Even should this prove to be the Quicourt or Rapid River, it would not be
prudent to winter much further down upon its banks, as, though they might
be out of the range of the Sioux, they would be in the neighborhood of the
Poncas, a tribe nearly as dangerous. It was resolved, therefore, since they
must winter somewhere on this side of the Missouri, to descend no lower,
but to keep up in these solitary regions, where they would be in no danger
of molestation.
CHAPTER XLIX. 344

They were brought the more promptly and unanimously to this decision, by
coming upon an excellent wintering place, that promised everything
requisite for their comfort. It was on a fine bend of the river, just below
where it issued out from among a ridge of mountains, and bent towards the
northeast. Here was a beautiful low point of land, covered by cotton−wood,
and surrounded by a thick growth of willow, so as to yield both shelter and
fuel, as well as materials for building. The river swept by in a strong
current, about a hundred and fifty yards wide. To the southeast were
mountains of moderate height, the nearest about two miles off, but the
whole chain ranging to the east, south, and southwest, as far as the eye
could reach. Their summits were crowned with extensive tracts of pitch
pine, checkered with small patches of the quivering aspen. Lower down
were thick forests of firs and red cedars, growing out in many places from
the very fissures of the rocks. The mountains were broken and precipitous,
with huge bluffs protruding from among the forests.

Their rocky recesses and beetling cliffs afforded retreats to innumerable

flocks of the bighorn, while their woody summits and ravines abounded
with bears and black−tailed deer. These, with the numerous herds of
buffalo that ranged the lower grounds along the river, promised the
travellers abundant cheer in their winter quarters.

On the 2d of November, therefore, they pitched their camp for the winter,
on the woody point, and their first thought was to obtain a supply of
provisions. Ben Jones and the two Canadians accordingly sallied forth,
accompanied by two others of the party, leaving but one to watch the camp.
Their hunting was uncommonly successful. In the course of two days, they
killed thirty−two buffaloes, and collected their meat on the margin of a
small brook, about a mile distant. Fortunately, a severe frost froze the river,
so that the meat was easily transported to the encampment. On a succeeding
day, a herd of buffalo came trampling through the woody bottom on the
river banks, and fifteen more were killed.

It was soon discovered, however, that there was game of a more dangerous
nature in the neighborhood. On one occasion, Mr. Crooks had wandered
about a mile from the camp, and had ascended a small hill commanding a
CHAPTER XLIX. 345

view of the river. He was without his rifle, a rare circumstance, for in these
wild regions, where one may put up a wild animal, or a wild Indian, at
every turn, it is customary never to stir from the camp−fire unarmed. The
hill where he stood overlooked the place where the massacre of the buffalo
had taken place. As he was looking around on the prospect, his eye was
caught by an object below, moving directly towards him. To his dismay, he
discovered it to be a grizzly bear, with two cubs. There was no tree at hand
into which he could climb; to run, would only be to provoke pursuit, and he
should soon be overtaken. He threw himself on the ground, therefore, and
lay motionless, watching the movements of the animal with intense anxiety.
It continued to advance until at the foot of the hill, when it turned, and
made into the woods, having probably gorged itself with buffalo flesh. Mr.
Crooks made all haste back to the camp, rejoicing at his escape, and
determining never to stir out again without his rifle. A few days after this
circumstance, a grizzly bear was shot in the neighborhood by Mr. Miller.

As the slaughter of so many buffaloes had provided the party with beef for
the winter, in case they met with no further supply, they now set to work,
heart and hand, to build a comfortable wigwam. In a little while the woody
promontory rang with the unwonted sound of the axe. Some of its lofty
trees were laid low, and by the second evening the cabin was complete. It
was eight feet wide, and eighteen feet long. The walls were six feet high,
and the whole was covered with buffalo skins. The fireplace was in the
centre, and the smoke found its way out by a hole in the roof.

The hunters were next sent out to procure deer−skins for garments,
moccasins, and other purposes. They made the mountains echo with their
rifles, and, in the course of two days' hunting, killed twenty−eight bighorns
and black−tailed deer.

The party now reveled in abundance. After all that they had suffered from
hunger, cold, fatigue and watchfulness; after all their perils from
treacherous and savage men, they exulted in the snugness and security of
their isolated cabin, hidden, as they thought, even from the prying eyes of
Indian scouts, and stored with creature comforts; and they looked forward
to a winter of peace and quietness, of roasting, and boiling, and broiling,
CHAPTER XLIX. 346

and feasting upon venison, and mountain mutton, and bear's meat, and
marrow bones, and buffalo humps, and other hunter's dainties, and of
dozing and reposing round their fire, and gossiping over past dangers and
adventures, and telling long hunting stories, until spring should return;
when they would make canoes of buffalo skins and float themselves down
the river.

From such halcyon dreams, they were startled one morning, at daybreak, by
a savage yell. They started tip and seized their rifles. The yell was repeated
by two or three voices. Cautiously peeping out, they beheld, to their
dismay, several Indian warriors among the trees, all armed and painted in
warlike style; being evidently bent on some hostile purpose.

Miller changed countenance as he regarded them. "We are in trouble," said

he, "these are some of the rascally Arapahays that robbed me last year."
Not a word was uttered by the rest of the party, but they silently slung their
powder horns and ball pouches, and prepared for battle. M'Lellan, who had
taken his gun to pieces the evening before, put it together in all haste. He
proposed that they should break out the clay from between the logs, so as to
be able to fire upon the enemy.

"Not yet," replied Stuart; "it will not do to show fear or distrust; we must
first hold a parley. Some one must go out and meet them as a friend."

Who was to undertake the task! It was full of peril, as the envoy might be
shot down at the threshold.

"The leader of a party," said Miller, "always takes the advance."

"Good!" replied Stuart; "I am ready." He immediately went forth; one of

the Canadians followed him; the rest of the party remained in the garrison,
to keep the savages in check.

Stuart advanced holding his rifle in one hand, and extending the other to the
savage that appeared to be the chief. The latter stepped forward and took it;
his men followed his example, and all shook hands with Stuart, in token of
CHAPTER XLIX. 347

friendship. They now explained their errand. They were a war party of
Arapahay braves. Their village lay on a stream several days' journey to the
eastward. It had been attacked and ravaged during their absence, by a band
of Crows, who had carried off several of their women, and most of their
horses. They were in quest of vengeance. For sixteen days they had been
tracking the Crows about the mountains, but had not yet come upon them.
In the meantime, they had met with scarcely any game, and were half
famished. About two days previously, they had heard the report of
fire−arms among the mountains, and on searching in the direction of the
sound, had come to a place where a deer had been killed. They had
immediately put themselves upon the track of the hunters, and by following
it up, had arrived at the cabin.

Mr. Stuart now invited the chief and another, who appeared to be his
lieutenant, into the hut, but made signs that no one else was to enter. The
rest halted at the door; others came straggling up, until the whole party, to
the number of twenty−three, ,were gathered before the hut. They were
armed with bows and arrows, tomahawks and scalping knives, and some
few with guns. All were painted and dressed for war, and had a wild and
fierce appearance. Mr. Miller recognized among them some of the very
fellows who had robbed him in the preceding year; and put his comrades
upon their guard. Every man stood ready to resist the first act of hostility;
the savages, however, conducted themselves peaceably, and showed none
of that swaggering arrogance which a war party is apt to assume.

On entering the hut the chief and his lieutenant cast a wistful look at the
rafters, laden with venison and buffalo meat. Mr. Stuart made a merit of
necessity, and invited them to help themselves. They did not wait to be
pressed. The rafters were soon eased of their burden; venison and beef were
passed out to the crew before the door, and a scene of gormandizing
commenced, of which few can have an idea, who have not witnessed the
gastronomic powers of an Indian, after an interval of fasting. This was kept
up throughout the day; they paused now and then, it is true, for a brief
interval, but only to return to the charge with renewed ardor. The chief and
the lieutenant surpassed all the rest in the vigor and perseverance of their
attacks; as if from their station they were bound to signalize themselves in
CHAPTER XLIX. 348

all onslaughts. Mr. Stuart kept them well supplied with choice bits, for it
was his policy to overfeed them, and keep them from leaving the hut, where
they served as hostages for the good conduct of their followers. Once, only,
in the course of the day, did the chief sally forth. Mr. Stuart and one of his
men accompanied him, armed with their rifles, but without betraying any
distrust. The chieftain soon returned, and renewed his attack upon the
larder. In a word, he and his worthy coadjutor, the lieutenant, ate until they
were both stupefied.

Towards evening the Indians made their preparations for the night
according to the practice of war parties. Those outside of the hut threw up
two breastworks, into which they retired at a tolerably early hour, and slept
like overfed hounds. As to the chief and his lieutenant, they passed the
night in the hut, in the course of which, they, two or three times, got up to
eat. The travellers took turns, one at a time, to mount guard until the
morning.

Scarce had the day dawned, when the gormandizing was renewed by the
whole band, and carried on with surprising vigor until ten o'clock, when all
prepared to depart. They had six days' journey yet to make, they said,
before they should come up with the Crows, who, they understood, were
encamped on a river to the northward. Their way lay through a hungry
country, where there was no game; they would, moreover, have but little
time to hunt; they, therefore, craved a small supply of provisions for their
journey. Mr. Stuart again invited them to help themselves. They did so with
keen forethought, loading themselves with the choicest parts of the meat,
and leaving the late plenteous larder far gone in a consumption. Their next
request was for a supply of ammunition, having guns, but no powder and
ball. They promised to pay magnificently out of the spoils of their foray.
"We are poor now," said they, "and are obliged to go on foot, but we shall
soon come back laden with booty, and all mounted on horseback, with
scalps hanging at our bridles. We will then give each of you a horse to keep
you from being tired on your journey."

"Well," said Mr. Stuart, "when you bring the horses, you shall have the
ammunition, but not before." The Indians saw by his determined tone, that
CHAPTER L. 349

all further entreaty would be unavailing, so they desisted, with a

good−humored laugh, and went off exceedingly well freighted, both within
and without, promising to be back again in the course of a fortnight.

No sooner were they out of hearing, than the luckless travellers held
another council. The security of their cabin was at an end and with it all
their dreams of a quiet and cozy winter. They were between two fires. On
one side were their old enemies, the Crows; on the other side, the
Arapahays, no less dangerous freebooters. As to the moderation of this war
party, they considered it assumed, to put them off their guard against some
more favorable opportunity for a surprisal. It was determined, therefore, not
to await their return, but to abandon, with all speed, this dangerous
neighborhood. From the accounts of their recent visitors, they were led to
believe, though erroneously, that they were upon the Quicourt, or Rapid
River. They proposed now to keep along it to its confluence with the
Missouri; but, should they be prevented by the rigors of the season from
proceeding so far, at least to reach a part of the river where they might be
able to construct canoes of greater strength and durability than those of
buffalo skins.

Accordingly, on the 13th of December, they bade adieu, with many a

regret, to their comfortable quarters where for five weeks they had been
indulging the sweets of repose, of plenty, and of fancied security. They
were still accompanied by their veteran pack−horse, which the Arapahays
had omitted to steal, either because they intended to steal him on their
return, or because they thought him not worth stealing.

CHAPTER L.

Rough Wintry Travelling − Hills and Plains.− Snow and Ice.−

Disappearance of Game.− A Vast Dreary Plain.− A. Second Halt for the
Winter.− Another Wigwam.− New Year's Feast.− Buffalo Humps,
Tongues, and Marrow−Bones.− Return of Spring.− Launch of Canoes. −
Bad Navigation. − Pedestrian March. − Vast Prairies. − Deserted Camps.−
Pawnee Squaws.− An Otto Indian.− News of War.− Voyage Down the
CHAPTER L. 350

Platte and the Missouri.− Reception at Fort Osage. − Arrival at St. Louis.

THE interval of comfort and repose which the party had enjoyed in their
wigwam, rendered the renewal of their fatigues intolerable for the first two
or three days. The snow lay deep, and was slightly frozen on the surface,
but not sufficiently to bear their weight. Their feet became sore by breaking
through the crust, and their limbs weary by floundering on without firm
foothold. So exhausted and dispirited were they, that they began to think it
would be better to remain and run the risk of being killed by the Indians,
than to drag on thus painfully, with the probability of perishing by the way.
Their miserable horse fared no better than themselves, having for the first
day or two no other fodder than the ends of willow twigs, and the bark of
the cotton−wood tree.

They all, however, appeared to gain patience and hardihood as they

proceeded, and for fourteen days kept steadily on, making a distance of
about three hundred and thirty miles. For some days, the range of
mountains which had been near to their wigwam kept parallel to the river at
no great distance, but at length subsided into hills. Sometimes they found
the river bordered with alluvial bottoms, and groves with cotton−wood and
willows; sometimes the adjacent country was naked and barren. In one
place it ran for a considerable distance between rocky hills and
promontories covered with cedar and pitch pines, and peopled with the
bighorn and the mountain deer; at other places it wandered through prairies
well stocked with buffaloes and antelopes. As they descended the course of
the river, they began to perceive the ash and white oak here and there
among the cotton−wood and willow; and at length caught a sight of some
wild horses on the distant prairies.

The weather was various; at one time the snow lay deep; then they had a
genial day or two, with the mildness and serenity of autumn; then, again,
the frost was so severe that the river was sufficiently frozen to bear them
upon the ice.

During the last three days of their fortnight's travel, however, the face of the
country changed. The timber gradually diminished, until they could
CHAPTER L. 351

scarcely find fuel sufficient for culinary purposes. The game grew more and
more scanty, and, finally, none were to be seen but a few miserable
broken−down buffalo bulls, not worth killing. The snow lay fifteen inches
deep, and made the travelling grievously painful and toilsome. At length
they came to an immense plain, where no vestige of timber was to be seen;
nor a single quadruped to enliven the desolate landscape. Here, then, their
hearts failed them, and they held another consultation. The width of the
river, which was upwards of a mile, its extreme shallowness, the frequency
of quicksands, and various other characteristics, had at length made them
sensible of their errors with respect to it, and they now came to the correct
conclusion, that they were on the banks of the Platte or Shallow River.
What were they to do? Pursue its course to the Missouri? To go on at this
season of the year seemed dangerous in the extreme. There was no prospect
of obtaining either food or firing. The country was destitute of trees, and
though there might be drift−wood along the river, it lay too deep beneath
the snow for them to find it.

The weather was threatening a change, and a snowstorm on these boundless

wastes might prove as fatal as a whirlwind of sand on an Arabian desert.
After much dreary deliberation, it was at length determined to retrace their
three last days' journey of seventy−seven miles, to a place which they had
remarked where there was a sheltering growth of forest trees, and a country
abundant in game. Here they would once more set up their winter quarters,
and await the opening of the navigation to launch themselves in canoes.

Accordingly, on the 27th of December, they faced about, retraced their

steps, and on the 30th, regained the part of the river in question. Here the
alluvial bottom was from one to two miles wide, and thickly covered with a
forest of cotton−wood trees; while herds of buffalo were scattered about the
neighboring prairie, several of which soon fell beneath their rifles.

They encamped on the margin of the river, in a grove where there were
trees large enough for canoes. Here they put up a shed for immediate
shelter, and immediately proceeded to erect a hut. New Year's day dawned
when, as yet, but one wall of their cabin was completed; the genial and
jovial day, however, was not permitted to pass uncelebrated, even by this
CHAPTER L. 352

weatherbeaten crew of wanderers. All work was suspended, except that of

roasting and boiling. The choicest of the buffalo meat, with tongues, and
humps, and marrow−bones, were devoured in quantities that would
astonish any one that has not lived among hunters or Indians; and as an
extra regale, having no tobacco left, they cut up an old tobacco pouch, still
redolent with the potent herb, and smoked it in honor of the day. Thus for a
time, in present revelry, however uncouth, they forgot all past troubles and
all anxieties about the future, and their forlorn wigwam echoed to the sound
of gayety.

The next day they resumed their labors, and by the 6th of the month it was
complete. They soon killed abundance of buffalo, and again laid in a stock
of winter provisions. The party were more fortunate in this, their second
cantonment. The winter passed away without any Indian visitors, and the
game continued to be plenty in the neighborhood. They felled two large
trees, and shaped them into canoes; and, as the spring opened, and a thaw
of several days' continuance melted the ice in the river, they made every
preparation for embarking. On the 8th of March they launched forth in their
canoes, but soon found that the river had not depth sufficient even for such
slender barks. It expanded into a wide but extremely shallow stream, with
many sand−bars, and occasionally various channels. They got one of their
canoes a few miles down it, with extreme difficulty, sometimes wading and
dragging it over the shoals; at length they had to abandon the attempt, and
to resume their journey on foot, aided by their faithful old pack−horse, who
had recruited strength during the repose of the winter.

The weather delayed them for a few days, having suddenly become more
rigorous than it had been at any time during the winter; but on the 20th of
March they were again on their journey.

In two days they arrived at the vast naked prairie, the wintry aspect of
which had caused them, in December, to pause and turn back. It was now
clothed in the early verdure of spring, and plentifully stocked with game.
Still, when obliged to bivouac on its bare surface, without any shelter, and
by a scanty fire of dry buffalo dung, they found the night blasts piercing
cold. On one occasion, a herd of buffalo straying near their evening camp,
CHAPTER L. 353

they killed three of them merely for their hides, wherewith to make a
shelter for the night.

They continued on for upwards of a hundred miles; with vast prairies

extending before them as they advanced; sometimes diversified by
undulating hills, but destitute of trees. In one place they saw a gang of
sixty−five wild horses, but as to the buffaloes, they seemed absolutely to
cover the country. Wild geese abounded, and they passed extensive
swamps that were alive with innumerable flocks of water−fowl, among
which were a few swans, but an endless variety of ducks.

The river continued a winding course to the east−north−east, nearly a mile

in width, but too shallow to float even an empty canoe. The country spread
out into a vast level plain, bounded by the horizon alone, excepting to the
north, where a line of hills seemed like a long promontory stretching into
the bosom of the ocean. The dreary sameness of the prairie wastes began to
grow extremely irksome. The travellers longed for the sight of a forest, or
grove, or single tree, to break the level uniformity, and began to notice
every object that gave reason to hope they were drawing towards the end of
this weary wilderness. Thus the occurrence of a particular kind of grass was
hailed as a proof that they could not be far from the bottoms of the
Missouri; and they were rejoiced at putting up several prairie hens, a kind
of grouse seldom found far in the interior. In picking up driftwood for fuel,
also, they found on some pieces the mark of an axe, which caused much
speculation as to the time when and the persons by whom the trees had
been felled. Thus they went on, like sailors at sea, who perceive in every
floating weed and wandering bird, harbingers of the wished−for land.

By the close of the month the weather became very mild, and, heavily
burdened as they were, they found the noontide temperature uncomfortably
warm. On the 30th, they came to three deserted hunting camps, either of
Pawnees or Ottoes, about which were buffalo skulls in all directions; and
the frames on which the hides had been stretched and cured. They had
apparently been occupied the preceding autumn.
CHAPTER L. 354

For several days they kept patiently on, watching every sign that might give
them an idea as to where they were, and how near to the banks of the
Missouri.

Though there were numerous traces of hunting parties and encampments,

they were not of recent date. The country seemed deserted. The only human
beings they met with were three Pawnee squaws, in a hut in the midst of a
deserted camp. Their people had all gone to the south, in pursuit of the
buffalo, and had left these poor women behind, being too sick and infirm to
travel.

It is a common practice with the Pawnees, and probably with other roving
tribes, when departing on a distant expedition, which will not admit of
incumbrance or delay, to leave their aged and infirm with a supply of
provisions sufficient for a temporary subsistence. When this is exhausted,
they must perish; though sometimes their sufferings are abridged by hostile
prowlers who may visit the deserted camp.

The poor squaws in question expected some such fate at the hands of the
white strangers, and though the latter accosted them in the kindest manner,
and made them presents of dried buffalo meat, it was impossible to soothe
their alarm, or get any information from them.

The first landmark by which the travellers were enabled to conjecture their
position with any degree of confidence, was an island about seventy miles
in length, which they presumed to be Grand Isle. If so, they were within
one hundred and forty miles of the Missouri. They kept on, therefore, With
renewed spirit, and at the end of three days met with an Otto Indian, by
whom they were confirmed in their conjecture. They learnt at the same time
another piece of information, of an uncomfortable nature. According to his
account, there was war between the United States and England, and in fact
it had existed for a whole year, during which time they had been beyond the
reach of all knowledge of the affairs of the civilized world.

The Otto conducted the travellers to his village, situated a short distance
from the banks of the Platte. Here they were delighted to meet with two
CHAPTER L. 355

white men, Messrs. Dornin and Roi, Indian traders recently from St. Louis.
Of these they had a thousand inquiries to make concerning all affairs,
foreign and domestic, during their year of sepulture in the wilderness; and
especially about the events of the existing war.

They now prepared to abandon their weary travel by land, and to embark
upon the water. A bargain was made with Mr. Dornin, who engaged to
furnish them with a canoe and provisions for the voyage, in exchange for
their venerable and well−tried fellow traveller, the old Snake horse.

Accordingly, in a couple of days, the Indians employed by that gentleman

constructed for them a canoe twenty feet long, four feet wide, and eighteen
inches deep. The frame was of poles and willow twigs, on which were
stretched five elk and buffalo hides, sewed together with sinews, and the
seams payed with unctuous mud. In this they embarked at an early hour on
the 16th of April, and drifted down ten miles with the stream, when the
wind being high they encamped, and set to work to make oars, which they
had not been able to procure at the Indian village.

Once more afloat, they went merrily down the stream, and after making
thirty−five miles, emerged into the broad turbid current of the Missouri.
Here they were borne along briskly by the rapid stream; though, by the time
their fragile bark had floated a couple of hundred miles, its frame began to
show the effects of the voyage. Luckily they came to the deserted wintering
place of some hunting party, where they found two old wooden canoes.
Taking possession of the largest, they again committed themselves to the
current, and after dropping down fifty−five miles further, arrived safely at
Fort Osage.

Here they found Lieutenant Brownson still in command; the officer who
had given the expedition a hospitable reception on its way up the river,
eighteen months previously. He received this remnant of the party with a
cordial welcome, and endeavored in every way to promote their comfort
and enjoyment during their sojourn at the fort. The greatest luxury they met
with on their return to the abode of civilized man, was bread, not having
tasted any for nearly a year.
CHAPTER LI. 356

Their stay at Fort Osage was but short. On re−embarking they were
furnished with an ample supply of provisions by the kindness of Lieutenant
Brownson, and performed the rest of their voyage without adverse
circumstance. On the 30th of April they arrived in perfect health and fine
spirits at St. Louis, having been ten months in performing this perilous
expedition from Astoria. Their return caused quite a sensation at the place,
bringing the first intelligence of the fortune of Mr. Hunt and his party in
their adventurous route across the Rocky Mountains, and of the new
establishment on the shores of the Pacific.

CHAPTER LI.

Agreement Between Mr. Astor and the Russian Fur Company− War
Between the United States and Great Britain.− Instructions to Captain
Sowle of the Beaver− Fitting Out of the Lark.− News of the Arrival of Mr.
Stuart.

IT is now necessary, in linking together the parts of this excursive

narrative, that we notice the proceedings of Mr. Astor in support of his
great undertaking. His project with respect to the Russian establishments
along the northwest coast had been diligently prosecuted. The agent sent by
him to St. Petersburg, to negotiate in his name as president of the American
Fur Company, had, under sanction of the Russian government, made a
provisional agreement with the Russian company.

By this agreement, which was ratified by Mr. Astor in 1813, the two
companies bound themselves not to interfere with each other's trading and
hunting grounds, nor to furnish arms and ammunition to the Indians. They
were to act in concert, also, against all interlopers, and to succor each other
in case of danger. The American company was to have the exclusive right
of supplying the Russian posts with goods and necessaries, receiving
peltries in payment at stated prices. They were also, if so requested by the
Russian governor, to convey the furs of the Russian company to Canton,
sell them on commission, and bring back the proceeds, at such freight as
might be agreed on at the time. This agreement was to continue in
CHAPTER LI. 357

operation four years, and to be renewable for a similar term, unless some
unforeseen contingency should render a modification necessary.

It was calculated to be of great service to the infant establishment at

Astoria; dispelling the fears of hostile rivalry on the part of the foreign
companies in its neighborhood, and giving a formidable blow to the
irregular trade along the coast. It was also the intention of Mr. Astor to
have coasting vessels of his own, at Astoria, of small tonnage and draft of
water, fitted for coasting service. These, having a place of shelter and
deposit, could ply about the coast in short voyages, in favorable weather,
and would have vast advantage over chance ships, which must make long
voyages, maintain numerous crews, and could only approach the coast at
certain seasons of the year. He hoped, therefore, gradually to make Astoria
the great emporium of the American fur trade in the Pacific, and the
nucleus of a powerful American state. Unfortunately for these sanguine
anticipations, before Mr. Astor had ratified the agreement, as above stated,
war broke out between the United States and Great Britain. He perceived at
once the peril of the case. The harbor of New York would doubtless be
blockaded, and the departure of the annual supply ship in the autumn
prevented; or, if she should succeed in getting out to sea, she might be
captured on her voyage.

In this emergency, he wrote to Captain Sowle, commander of the Beaver.

The letter, which was addressed to him at Canton, directed him to proceed
to the factory at the mouth of the Columbia, with such articles as the
establishment might need; and to remain there, subject to the orders of Mr.
Hunt, should that gentleman be in command there.

The war continued. No tidings had yet been received from Astoria; the
despatches having been delayed by the misadventure of Mr. Reed at the
falls of the Columbia, and the unhorsing of Mr. Stuart by the Crows among
the mountains. A painful uncertainty, also, prevailed about Mr. Hunt and
his party. Nothing had been heard of them since their departure from the
Arickara village; Lisa, who parted from them there, had predicted their
destruction; and some of the traders of the Northwest Company had
actually spread a rumor of their having been cut off by the Indians.
CHAPTER LI. 358

It was a hard trial of the courage and means of an individual to have to fit
out another costly expedition, where so much had already been expended,
so much uncertainty prevailed, and where the risk of loss was so greatly
enhanced, that no insurance could be effected.

In spite of all these discouragements, Mr. Astor determined to send another

ship to the relief of the settlement. He selected for this purpose a vessel
called the Lark, remarkable for her fast sailing. The disordered state of the
times, however, caused such a delay, that February arrived, while the vessel
was yet lingering in port.

At this juncture, Mr. Astor learnt that the Northwest Company were
preparing to send out an armed ship of twenty guns, called the Isaac Todd,
to form an establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. These tidings gave
him great uneasiness. A considerable proportion of the persons in his
employ were Scotchmen and Canadians, and several of them had been in
the service of the Northwest Company. Should Mr. Hunt have failed to
arrive at Astoria, the whole establishment would be under the control of
Mr. M'Dougal, of whose fidelity he had received very disparaging accounts
from Captain Thorn. The British government, also, might deem it worth
while to send a force against the establishment, having been urged to do so
some time previously by the Northwest Company.

Under all these circumstances, Mr. Astor wrote to Mr. Monroe, then
secretary of state, requesting protection from the government of the United
States. He represented the importance of his settlement, in a commercial
point of view, and the shelter it might afford to the American vessels in
those seas. All he asked was that the American government would throw
forty or fifty men into the fort at his establishment, which would be
sufficient for its defense until he could send reinforcements over land.

He waited in vain for a reply to this letter, the government, no doubt, being
engrossed at the time by an overwhelming crowd of affairs. The month of
March arrived, and the Lark was ordered by Mr. Astor to put to sea. The
officer who was to command her shrunk from his engagement, and in the
exigency of the moment, she was given in charge to Mr. Northrup, the
CHAPTER LI. 359

mate. Mr. Nicholas G. Ogden, a gentleman on whose talents and integrity

the highest reliance could be placed, sailed as supercargo. The Lark put to
sea in the beginning of March, 1813.

By this opportunity, Mr. Astor wrote to Mr. Hunt, as head of the

establishment at the mouth of the Columbia, for he would not allow himself
to doubt of his welfare. "I always think you are well," said he, "and that I
shall see you again, which Heaven, I hope, will grant."

He warned him to be on his guard against any attempts to surprise the post;
suggesting the probability of armed hostility on the part of the Northwest
Company, and expressing his indignation at the ungrateful returns made by
that association for his frank and open conduct, and advantageous
overtures. "Were I on the spot," said he, "and had the management of
affairs, I would defy them all; but, as it is, everything depends upon you
and your friends about you. Our enterprise is grand, and deserves success,
and I hope in God it will meet it. If my object was merely gain of money, I
should say, think whether it is best to save what we can, and abandon the
place; but the very idea is like a dagger to my heart." This extract is
sufficient to show the spirit and the views which actuated Mr. Astor in this
great undertaking.

Week after week and month after month elapsed, without anything to dispel
the painful incertitude that hung over every part of this enterprise. Though a
man of resolute spirit, and not easily cast down, the dangers impending
over this darling scheme of his ambition, had a gradual effect upon the
spirits of Mr. Astor. He was sitting one gloomy evening by his window,
revolving over the loss of the Tonquin and the fate of her unfortunate crew,
and fearing that some equally tragical calamity might have befallen the
adventurers across the mountains, when the evening newspaper was
brought to him. The first paragraph that caught his eye, announced the
arrival of Mr. Stuart and his party at St. Louis, with intelligence that Mr.
Hunt and his companions had effected their perilous expedition to the
mouth of the Columbia. This was a gleam of sunshine that for a time
dispelled every cloud, and he now looked forward with sanguine hope to
the accomplishment of all his plans.
CHAPTER Lll. 360

CHAPTER Lll.

Banks of the Wallah−Wallah.− Departure of David Stuart for the

Oakinagan.− Mr. Clarke's Route Up Lewis River.− Chipunnish, or
Pierced−Nose Indians− Their Character, Appearance, and Habits.−
Thievish Habits.− Laying Up of the Boats.− Post at Pointed Heart and
Spokan Rivers.− M'Kenzie, His Route Up the Camoenum.−Bands of
Travelling Indians.− Expedition of Reed to the Caches.− Adventures of
Wandering Voyageurs and Trappers.

THE course of our narrative now takes us back to the regions beyond the
mountains, to dispose of the parties that set out from Astoria, in company
with Mr. Robert Stuart, and whom he left on the banks of the
Wallah−Wallah. Those parties likewise separated from each other shortly
after his departure, proceeding to their respective destinations, but agreeing
to meet at the mouth of the Wallah−Wallah about the beginning of June in
the following year, with such peltries as they should have collected in the
winter, so as to convoy each other through the dangerous passes of the
Columbia.

Mr. David Stuart, one of the partners, proceeded with his men to the post
already established by him at the mouth of the Oakinagan; having furnished
this with goods and ammunition, he proceeded three hundred miles up that
river, where he established another post in a good trading neighborhood.

Mr. Clarke, another partner, conducted his little band up Lewis River to the
mouth of a small stream coming in from the north, to which the Canadians
gave the name of the Pavion. Here he found a village or encampment of
forty huts or tents, covered with mats, and inhabited by Nez Perces, or
Pierced−nose Indians, as they are called by the traders; but Chipunnish, as
they are called by themselves. They are a hardy, laborious, and somewhat
knavish race, who lead a precarious life, fishing and digging roots during
the summer and autumn, hunting the deer on snow−shoes during the winter,
and traversing the Rocky Mountains in the spring, to trade for buffalo skins
CHAPTER Lll. 361

with the hunting tribes of the Missouri. In these migrations they are liable
to be waylaid and attacked by the Blackfeet, and other warlike and
predatory tribes, and driven back across the mountains with the loss of their
horses, and of many of their comrades.

A life of this unsettled and precarious kind is apt to render man selfish, and
such Mr. Clarke found the inhabitants of this village, who were deficient in
the usual hospitality of Indians; parting with everything with extreme
reluctance, and showing no sensibility to any act of kindness. At the time of
his arrival, they were all occupied in catching and curing salmon. The men
were stout, robust, active, and good looking, and the women handsomer
than those of the tribes nearer to the coast.

It was the plan of Mr. Clarke to lay up his boats here, and proceed by land
to his place of destination, which was among the Spokan tribe of Indians,
about a hundred and fifty miles distant. He accordingly endeavored to
purchase horses for the journey, but in this he had to contend with the
sordid disposition of these people. They asked high prices for their horses,
and were so difficult to deal with, that Mr. Clarke was detained seven days
among them before he could procure a sufficient number. During that time
he was annoyed by repeated pilferings, for which he could get no redress.
The chief promised to recover the stolen articles; but failed to do so,
alleging that the thieves belonged to a distant tribe, and had made off with
their booty. With this excuse Mr. Clarke was fain to content himself,
though he laid up in his heart a bitter grudge against the whole
Pierced−nose race, which it will be found he took occasion subsequently to
gratify in a signal manner.

Having made arrangements for his departure, Mr. Clarke laid up his barge
and canoes in a sheltered place, on the banks of a small bay, overgrown
with shrubs and willows, confiding them to the care of the Nez Perce chief,
who, on being promised an ample compensation, engaged to have a
guardian eye upon them; then mounting his steed, and putting himself at the
head of his little caravan, he shook the dust off his feet as he turned his
back upon this village of rogues and hard dealers. We shall not follow him
minutely in his journey; which lay at times over steep and rocky hills, and
CHAPTER Lll. 362

among crags and precipices; at other times over vast naked and sunburnt
plains, abounding with rattlesnakes, in traversing which, both men and
horses suffered intolerably from heat and thirst. The place on which he
fixed for a trading post, was a fine point of land, at the junction of the
Pointed Heart and Spokan Rivers. His establishment was intended to
compete with a trading post of the Northwest Company, situated at no great
distance, and to rival it in the trade with the Spokan Indians; as well as with
the Cootonais and Flatheads. In this neighborhood we shall leave him for
the present.

Mr. M'Kenzie, who conducted the third party from the Wallah− Wallah,
navigated for several days up the south branch of the Columbia, named the
Camoenum by the natives, but commonly called Lewis River, in honor of
the first explorer. Wandering bands of various tribes were seen along this
river, travelling in various directions; for the Indians generally are restless,
roving beings, continually intent on enterprises of war, traffic, and hunting.
Some of these people were driving large gangs of horses, as if to a distant
market. Having arrived at the mouth of the Shahaptan, he ascended some
distance up that river, and established his trading post upon its banks. This
appeared to be a great thoroughfare for the tribes from the neighborhood of
the Falls of the Columbia, in their expeditions to make war upon the tribes
of the Rocky Mountains; to hunt buffalo on the plains beyond, or to traffic
for roots and buffalo robes. It was the season of migration, and the Indians
from various distant parts were passing and repassing in great numbers.

Mr. M'Kenzie now detached a small band, under the conduct of Mr. John
Reed, to visit the caches made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron Linn, and to
bring the contents to his post; as he depended, in some measure, on them
for his supplies of goods and ammunition. They had not been gone a week,
when two Indians arrived of the Pallatapalla tribe, who live upon a river of
the same name. These communicated the unwelcome intelligence that the
caches had been robbed. They said that some of their tribe had, in the
course of the preceding spring, been across the mountains, which separated
them from Snake River, and had traded horses with the Snakes in exchange
for blankets, robes and goods of various descriptions. These articles the
Snakes had procured from caches to which they were guided by some white
CHAPTER Lll. 363

men who resided among them, and who afterwards accompanied them
across the Rocky Mountains. This intelligence was extremely perplexing to
Mr. M'Kenzie, but the truth of part of it was confirmed by the two Indians,
who brought them an English saddle and bridle, which was recognized as
having belonged to Mr. Crooks. The perfidy of the white men who revealed
the secret of the caches, was, however, perfectly inexplicable. We shall
presently account for it in narrating the expedition of Mr. Reed.

That worthy Hibernian proceeded on his mission with his usual alacrity.
His forlorn travels of the preceding winter had made him acquainted with
the topography of the country, and he reached Snake River without any
material difficulty. Here, in an encampment of the natives, he met with six
white men, wanderers from the main expedition of Mr. Hunt, who, after
having had their respective shares of adventures and mishaps, had
fortunately come together at this place. Three of these men were Turcotte,
La Chapelle, and Francis Landry; the three Canadian voyageurs who, it
may be recollected, had left Mr. Crooks in February, in the neighborhood
of Snake River, being dismayed by the increasing hardships of the journey,
and fearful of perishing of hunger. They had returned to a Snake
encampment, where they passed the residue of the winter.

Early in the spring, being utterly destitute, and in great extremity, and
having worn out the hospitality of the Snakes, they determined to avail
themselves of the buried treasures within their knowledge. They
accordingly informed the Snake chieftains that they knew where a great
quantity of goods had been left in caches, enough to enrich the whole tribe;
and offered to conduct them to the place, on condition of being rewarded
with horses and provisions. The chieftains pledged their faith and honor as
great men and Snakes, and the three Canadians conducted them to the place
of deposit at the Caldron Linn. This is the way that the savages got
knowledge of the caches, and not by following the tracks of wolves, as Mr.
Stuart had supposed. Never did money diggers turn up a miser's hoard with
more eager delight, than did the savages lay open the treasures of the
caches. Blankets and robes, brass trinkets and blue beads were drawn forth
with chuckling exultation, and long strips of scarlet cloth produced yells of
ecstasy.
CHAPTER Lll. 364

The rifling of the caches effected a change in the fortunes and deportment
of the whole party. The Snakes were better clad and equipped than ever
were Snakes before, and the three Canadians, suddenly finding themselves
with horse to ride and weapon to wear, were like beggars on horseback,
ready to ride on any wild scamper. An opportunity soon presented. The
Snakes determined on a hunting match on the buffalo prairies, to lay in a
supply of beef, that they might live in plenty, as became men of their
improved condition. The three newly mounted cavaliers, must fain
accompany them. They all traversed the Rocky Mountains in safety,
descended to the head waters of the Missouri, and made great havoc among
the buffaloes.

Their hunting camp was full of meat; they were gorging themselves, like
true Indians, with present plenty, and drying and jerking great quantities for
a winter's supply. In the midst of their revelry and good cheer, the camp
was surprised by the Blackfeet. Several of the Snakes were slain on the
spot; the residue, with their three Canadian allies, fled to the mountains,
stripped of horses, buffalo meat, everything; and made their way back to
the old encampment on Snake River, poorer than ever, but esteeming
themselves fortunate in having escaped with their lives. They had not been
long there when the Canadians were cheered by the sight of a companion in
misfortune, Dubreull, the poor voyageur who had left Mr. Crooks in March,
being too much exhausted to keep on with him. Not long afterwards, three
other straggling members of the main expedition made their appearance.
These were Carson, St. Michael, and Pierre Delaunay, three of the trappers
who, in company with Pierre Detaye, had been left among the mountains
by Mr. Hunt, to trap beaver, in the preceding month of September. They
had departed from the main body well armed and provided, with horses to
ride, and horses to carry the peltries they were to collect. They came
wandering into the Snake camp as ragged and destitute as their
predecessors. It appears that they had finished their trapping, and were
making their way in the spring to the Missouri, when they were met and
attacked by a powerful band of the all−pervading Crows. They made a
desperate resistance, and killed seven of the savages, but were overpowered
by numbers. Pierre Detaye was slain, the rest were robbed of horses and
effects, and obliged to turn back, when they fell in with their old
CHAPTER Lll. 365

companions as already mentioned.

We should observe, that at the heels of Pierre Delaunay came draggling an

Indian wife, whom he had picked up in his wanderings; having grown
weary of celibacy among the savages.

The whole seven of this forlorn fraternity of adventurers, thus accidentally

congregated on the banks of Snake River, were making arrangements once
more to cross the mountains, when some Indian scouts brought word of the
approach of the little band headed by John Reed.

The latter, having heard the several stories of these wanderers, took them
all into his party, and set out for the Caldron Linn, to clear out two or three
of the caches which had not been revealed to the Indians.

At that place he met with Robinson, the Kentucky veteran, who, with his
two comrades, Rezner and Hoback, had remained there when Mr. Stuart
went on. This adventurous trio had been trapping higher up the river, but
Robinson had come down in a canoe, to await the expected arrival of the
party, and obtain horses and equipments. He told Reed the story of the
robbery of his party by the Arapahays, but it differed, in some particulars,
from the account given by him to Mr. Stuart. In that, he had represented
Cass as having shamefully deserted his companions in their extremity,
carrying off with him a horse; in the one now given, he spoke of him as
having been killed in the affray with the Arapahays. This discrepancy, of
which, of course, Reed could have had no knowledge at the time, concurred
with other circumstances, to occasion afterwards some mysterious
speculations and dark surmises as to the real fate of Cass; but as no
substantial grounds were ever adduced for them, we forbear to throw any
deeper shades into this story of sufferings in the wilderness.

Mr. Reed, having gathered the remainder of the goods from the caches, put
himself at the head of his party, now augmented by the seven men thus
casually picked up, and the squaw of Pierre Delaunay, and made his way
successfully to M'Kenzie's Post, on the waters of the Shahaptan.
CHAPTER LIII. 366

CHAPTER LIII.

Departure of Mr. Hunt in the Beaver− Precautions at the Factory.−

Detachment to the Wollamut.− Gloomy Apprehensions.− Arrival of
M'Kenzie.− Affairs at the Shahaptan.− News of War.− Dismay of
M'Dougal.−Determination to Abandon Astoria.−Departure of M'Kenzie for
the Interior.− Adventure at the Rapids.− Visit to the Ruffians of Wish−ram.
− A Perilous Situation.− Meeting With M'Tavish and His Party.− Arrival at
the Shahaptan.− Plundered Caches.−Determination of the Wintering
Partners Not to Leave the Country.− Arrival of Clarke Among the Nez
Perces.− The Affair of the Silver Goblet.− Hanging of An Indian.− Arrival
of the Wintering Partners at Astoria.

AFTER the departure of the different detachments, or brigades, as they are

called by the fur traders, the Beaver prepared for her voyage along the
coast, and her visit to the Russian establishment, at New Archangel, where
she was to carry supplies. It had been determined in the council of partners
at Astoria, that Mr. Hunt should embark in this vessel, for the purpose of
acquainting himself with the coasting trade, and of making arrangements
with the commander of the Russian post, and that he should be re−landed in
October, at Astoria, by the Beaver, on her way to the Sandwich Islands and
Canton.

The Beaver put to sea in the month of August. Her departure and that of the
various brigades, left the fortress of Astoria but slightly garrisoned. This
was soon perceived by some of the Indian tribes, and the consequence was
increased insolence of deportment, and a disposition to hostility. It was now
the fishing season, when the tribes from the northern coast drew into the
neighborhood of the Columbia. These were warlike and perfidious in their
dispositions; and noted for their attempts to surprise trading ships. Among
them were numbers of the Neweetees, the ferocious tribe that massacred the
crew of the Tonquin.

Great precautions, therefore, were taken at the factory, to guard against

surprise while these dangerous intruders were in the vicinity. Galleries were
constructed inside of the palisades; the bastions were heightened, and
CHAPTER LIII. 367

sentinels were posted day and night. Fortunately, the Chinooks and other
tribes resident in the vicinity manifested the most pacific disposition. Old
Comcomly, who held sway over them, was a shrewd calculator. He was
aware of the advantages of having the whites as neighbors and allies, and of
the consequence derived to himself and his people from acting as
intermediate traders between them and the distant tribes. He had, therefore,
by this time, become a firm friend of the Astorians, and formed a kind of
barrier between them and the hostile intruders from the north.

The summer of 1812 passed away without any of the hostilities that had
been apprehended; the Neweetees, and other dangerous visitors to the
neighborhood, finished their fishing and returned home, and the inmates of
the factory once more felt secure from attack.

It now became necessary to guard against other evils. The season of

scarcity arrived, which commences in October, and lasts until the end of
January. To provide for the support of the garrison, the shallop was
employed to forage about the shores of the river. A number of the men,
also, under the command of some of the clerks, were sent to quarter
themselves on the banks of the Wollamut (the Multnomah of Lewis and
Clarke) , a fine river which disembogues itself into the Columbia, about
sixty miles above Astoria. The country bordering on the river is finely
diversified with prairies and hills, and forests of oak, ash, maple, and cedar.
It abounded, at that time, with elk and deer, and the streams were well
stocked with beaver. Here the party, after supplying their own wants, were
enabled to pack up quantities of dried meat, and send it by canoes to
Astoria.

The month of October elapsed without the return of the Beaver. November,
December, January, passed away, and still nothing was seen or heard of
her. Gloomy apprehensions now began to be entertained: she might have
been wrecked in the course of her coasting voyage, or surprised, like the
Tonquin, by some of the treacherous tribes of the north.

No one indulged more in these apprehensions than M'Dougal, who had now
the charge of the establishment. He no longer evinced the bustling
CHAPTER LIII. 368

confidence and buoyancy which once characterized him. Command seemed

to have lost its charms for him, or rather, he gave way to the most abject
despondency, decrying the whole enterprise, magnifying every untoward
circumstance, and foreboding nothing but evil.

While in this moody state, he was surprised, on the 16th of January, by the
sudden appearance of M'Kenzie, wayworn and weather−beaten by a long
wintry journey from his post on the Shahaptan, and with a face the very
frontispiece for a volume of misfortune. M'Kenzie had been heartily
disgusted and disappointed at his post. It was in the midst of the
Tushepaws, a powerful and warlike nation, divided into many tribes, under
different chiefs, who possessed innumerable horses, but, not having turned
their attention to beaver trapping, had no furs to offer. According to
M'Kenzie, they were but a "rascally tribe; " from which we may infer that
they were prone to consult their own interests more than comported with
the interests of a greedy Indian trader.

Game being scarce, he was obliged to rely, for the most part, on
horse−flesh for subsistence, and the Indians discovering his necessities,
adopted a policy usual in civilized trade, and raised the price of horses to an
exorbitant rate, knowing that he and his men must eat or die. In this way,
the goods he had brought to trade for beaver skins, were likely to be
bartered for horseflesh, and all the proceeds devoured upon the spot.

He had despatched trappers in various directions, but the country around

did not offer more beaver than his own station. In this emergency he began
to think of abandoning his unprofitable post, sending his goods to the posts
of Clarke and David Stuart, who could make a better use of them, as they
were in a good beaver country, and returning with his party to Astoria, to
seek some better destination. With this view he repaired to the post of Mr.
Clarke, to hold a consultation. While the two partners were in conference in
Mr. Clarke's wigwam, an unexpected visitor came bustling in upon them.

This was Mr. John George M'Tavish, a partner of the Northwest Company,
who had charge of the rival trading posts established in that neighborhood.
Mr. M'Tavish was the delighted messenger of bad news. He had been to
CHAPTER LIII. 369

Lake Winnipeg, where he received an express from Canada, containing the

declaration of war, and President Madison's proclamation, which he handed
with the most officious complaisance to Messrs. Clarke and M'Kenzie. He
moreover told them that he had received a fresh supply of goods from the
Northwest posts on the other side of the Rocky Mountains, and was
prepared for vigorous opposition to the establishment of the American
Company. He capped the climax of this obliging but belligerent
intelligence, by informing them that the armed ship, Isaac Todd, was to be
at the mouth of the Columbia about the beginning of March, to get
possession of the trade of the river, and that he was ordered to join her there
at that time.

The receipt of this news determined M'Kenzie. He immediately returned to

the Shahaptan, broke up his establishment, deposited his goods in cache,
and hastened with all his people to Astoria.

The intelligence thus brought, completed the dismay of M'Dougal, and

seemed to produce a complete confusion of mind. He held a council of war
with M'Kenzie, at which some of the clerks were present, but of course had
no votes. They gave up all hope of maintaining their post at Astoria. The
Beaver had probably been lost; they could receive no aid from the United
States, as all the ports would be blockaded. From England nothing could be
expected but hostility. It was determined, therefore, to abandon the
establishment in the course of the following spring, and return across the
Rocky Mountains. In pursuance of this resolution, they suspended all trade
with the natives, except for provisions, having already more peltries than
they could carry away, and having need of all the goods for the clothing
and subsistence of their people, during the remainder of their sojourn, and
on their journey across the mountains, This intention of abandoning Astoria
was, however, kept secret from the men, lest they should at once give up all
labor, and become restless and insubordinate.

In the meantime, M'Kenzie set off for his post at the Shahaptan, to get his
goods from the caches, and buy horses and provisions with them for the
caravan across the mountains. He was charged with despatches from
M'Dougal to Messrs. Stuart and Clarke, appraising them of the intended
CHAPTER LIII. 370

migration, that they might make timely preparations.

M'Kenzie was accompanied by two of the clerks, Mr. John Reed, the
Irishman, and Mr. Alfred Seton, of New York. They embarked in two
canoes, manned by seventeen men, and ascended the river without any
incident of importance, until they arrived in the eventful neighborhood of
the rapids. They made the portage of the narrows and the falls early in the
afternoon, and, having partaken of a scanty meal, had now a long evening
on their hands.

On the opposite side of the river lay the village of Wish−ram, of

freebooting renown. Here lived the savages who had robbed and maltreated
Reed, when bearing his tin box of despatches. It was known that the rifle of
which he was despoiled was retained as a trophy at the village. M'Kenzie
offered to cross the river, and demand the rifle, if any one would
accompany him. It was a hare− brained project, for these villages were
noted for the ruffian character of their inhabitants; yet two volunteers
promptly stepped forward; Alfred Seton, the clerk, and Joe de la Pierre, the
cook. The trio soon reached the opposite side of the river. On landing, they
freshly primed their rifles and pistols. A path winding for about a hundred
yards among rocks and crags, led to the village. No notice seemed to be
taken of their approach. Not a solitary being, man, woman, or child, greeted
them.

The very dogs, those noisy pests of an Indian town, kept silence. On
entering the village, a boy made his appearance, and pointed to a house of
larger dimensions than the rest. They had to stoop to enter it; as soon as
they had passed the threshold, the narrow passage behind them was filled
up by a sudden rush of Indians, who had before kept out of sight.

M'Kenzie and his companions found themselves in a rude chamber of about

twenty−five feet long and twenty wide. A bright fire was blazing at one
end, near which sat the chief, about sixty years old. A large number of
Indians, wrapped in buffalo robes, were squatted in rows, three deep,
forming a semicircle round three sides of the room. A single glance around
sufficed to show them the grim and dangerous assembly into which they
CHAPTER LIII. 371

had intruded, and that all retreat was cut off by the mass which blocked up
the entrance.

The chief pointed to the vacant side of the room opposite to the door, and
motioned for them to take their seats. They complied. A dead pause ensued.
The grim warriors around sat like statues; each muffled in his robe, with his
fierce eyes bent on the intruders. The latter felt they were in a perilous
predicament.

"Keep your eyes on the chief while I am addressing him," said M'Kenzie to
his companions. "Should he give any sign to his band, shoot him, and make
for the door."

M'Kenzie advanced, and offered the pipe of peace to the chief, but it was
refused. He then made a regular speech, explaining the object of their visit,
and proposing to give in exchange for the rifle two blankets, an axe, some
beads and tobacco.

When he had done, the chief rose, began to address him in a low voice, but
soon became loud and violent, and ended by working himself up into a
furious passion. He upbraided the white men for their sordid conduct in
passing and repassing through their neighborhood, without giving them a
blanket or any other article of goods, merely because they had no furs to
barter in exchange, and he alluded, with menaces of vengeance, to the death
of the Indian killed by the whites in the skirmish at the falls.

Matters were verging to a crisis. It was evident the surrounding savages

were only waiting a signal from the chief to spring upon their prey.
M'Kenzie and his companions had gradually risen on their feet during the
speech, and had brought their rifles to a horizontal position, the barrels
resting in their left hands; the muzzle of M'Kenzie's piece was within three
feet of the speaker's heart. They cocked their rifles; the click of the locks
for a moment suffused the dark cheek of the savage, and there was a pause.
They coolly, but promptly, advanced to the door; the Indians fell back in
awe, and suffered them to pass. The sun was just setting, as they emerged
from this dangerous den. They took the precaution to keep along the tops of
CHAPTER LIII. 372

the rocks as much as possible on their way back to the canoe, and reached
their camp in safety, congratulating themselves on their escape, and feeling
no desire to make a second visit to the grim warriors of Wish− ram.

M'Kenzie and his party resumed their journey the next morning. At some
distance above the falls of the Columbia, they observed two bark canoes,
filled with white men, coming down the river, to the full chant of a set of
Canadian voyageurs. A parley ensued. It was a detachment of
Northwesters, under the command of Mr. John George M'Tavish, bound,
full of song and spirit, to the mouth of the Columbia, to await the arrival of
the Isaac Todd.

Mr. M'Kenzie and M'Tavish came to a halt, and landing, encamped for the
night. The voyageurs of either party hailed each other as brothers, and old
"comrades," and they mingled together as if united by one common
interest, instead of belonging to rival companies, and trading under hostile
flags.

In the morning they proceeded on their different ways, in style

corresponding to their different fortunes: the one toiling painfully against
the stream, the other sweeping down gayly with the Current.

M'Kenzie arrived safely at his deserted post on the Shahaptan, but found, to
his chagrin, that his caches had been discovered and rifled by the Indians.
Here was a dilemma, for on the stolen goods he had depended to purchase
horses of the Indians. He sent out men in all directions to endeavor to
discover the thieves, and despatched Mr. Reed to the posts of Messrs.
Clarke and David Stuart, with the letters of Mr. M'Dougal.

The resolution announced in these letters, to break up and depart from

Astoria, was condemned by both Clarke and Stuart. These two gentlemen
had been very successful at their posts, and considered it rash and
pusillanimous to abandon, on the first difficulty, an enterprise of such great
cost and ample promise. They made no arrangements, therefore, for leaving
the country, but acted with a view to the maintenance of their new and
prosperous establishments.
CHAPTER LIII. 373

The regular time approached, when the partners of the interior − posts were
to rendezvous at the mouth of the Wallah−Wallah, on their way to Astoria,
with the peltries they had collected. Mr. Clarke accordingly packed all his
furs on twenty−eight horses, and, leaving a clerk and four men to take
charge of the post, departed on the 25th of May with the residue of his
force.

On the 30th, he arrived at the confluence of the Pavion and Lewis rivers,
where he had left his barge and canoes, in the guardianship of the old
Pierced−nosed chieftain. That dignitary had acquitted himself more
faithfully to his charge than Mr. Clarke had expected, and the canoes were
found in very tolerable order. Some repairs were necessary, and, while they
were making, the party encamped close by the village. Having had repeated
and vexatious proofs of the pilfering propensities of this tribe during his
former visit, Mr. Clarke ordered that a wary eye should be kept upon them.

He was a tall, good−looking man, and somewhat given to pomp and

circumstance, which made him an object of note in the eyes of the
wondering savages. He was stately, too, in his appointments, and had a
silver goblet or drinking cup, out of which he would drink with a
magnificent air, and then lock it up in a large garde vin, which
accompanied him in his travels, and stood in his tent. This goblet had
originally been sent as a present from Mr. Astor to Mr. M'Kay, the partner
who had unfortunately been blown up in the Tonquin. As it reached Astoria
after the departure of that gentleman, it had remained in the possession of
Mr. Clarke.

A silver goblet was too glittering a prize not to catch the eye of a
Pierced−nose. It was like the shining tin case of John Reed. Such a wonder
had never been seen in the land before. The Indians talked about it to one
another. They marked the care with which it was deposited in the garde vin,
like a relic in its shrine, and concluded that it must be a "great medicine."
That night Mr. Clarke neglected to lock up his treasure; in the morning the
sacred casket was open − the precious relic gone!
CHAPTER LIII. 374

Clarke was now outrageous. All the past vexations that he had suffered
from this pilfering community rose to mind, and he threatened that, unless
the goblet was promptly returned, he would hang the thief, should he
eventually discover him. The day passed away, however, without the
restoration of the cup. At night sentinels were secretly posted about the
camp. With all their vigilance, a Pierced−nose contrived to get into the
camp unperceived, and to load himself with booty; it was only on his
retreat that he was discovered and taken.

At daybreak the culprit was brought to trial, and promptly convicted. He

stood responsible for all the spoliations of the camp, the precious goblet
among the number, and Mr. Clarke passed sentence of death upon him.

A gibbet was accordingly constructed of oars; the chief of the village and
his people were assembled, and the, culprit was produced, with his legs and
arms pinioned. Clarke then made a harangue. He reminded the tribe of the
benefits he had bestowed upon them during his former visits, and the many
thefts and other misdeeds which he had overlooked. The prisoner,
especially, had always been peculiarly well treated by the white men, but
had repeatedly been guilty of pilfering. He was to be punished for his own
misdeeds, and as a warning to his tribe.

The Indians now gathered round Mr. Clarke, and interceded for the culprit.
They were willing he should be punished severely, but implored that his
life might be spared. The companions, too, of Mr. Clarke, considered the
sentence too severe, and advised him to mitigate it; but he was inexorable.
He was not naturally a stern or cruel man; but from his boyhood he had
lived in the Indian country among Indian traders, and held the life of a
savage extremely cheap. He was, moreover, a firm believer in the doctrine
of intimidation.

Farnham, a clerk, a tall "Green Mountain boy" from Vermont, who had
been robbed of a pistol, acted as executioner. The signal was given, and the
poor Pierced−nose resisting, struggling, and screaming, in the most
frightful manner, was launched into eternity. The Indians stood round
gazing in silence and mute awe, but made no attempt to oppose the
CHAPTER LIII. 375

execution, nor testified any emotion when it was over. They locked up their
feelings within their bosoms until an opportunity should arrive to gratify
them with a bloody act of vengeance.

To say nothing of the needless severity of this act, its impolicy was
glaringly obvious. Mr. M'Lennan and three men were to return to the post
with the horses, their loads having been transferred to the canoes. They
would have to pass through a tract of country infested by this tribe, who
were all horsemen and hard riders, and might pursue them to take
vengeance for the death of their comrade. M'Lennan, however, was a
resolute fellow, and made light of all dangers. He and his three men were
present at the execution, and set off as soon as life was extinct in the
victim; but, to use the words of one of their comrades, "they did not let the
grass grow under the heels of their horses, as they clattered out of the
Pierced−nose country," and were glad to find themselves in safety at the
post.

Mr. Clarke and his party embarked about the same time in their canoes, and
early on the following day reached the mouth of the Wallah−Wallah, where
they found Messrs. Stuart and M'Kenzie awaiting them; the latter having
recovered part of the goods stolen from his cache. Clarke informed them of
the signal punishment he had inflicted on the Pierced−nose, evidently
expecting to excite their admiration by such a hardy act of justice,
performed in the very midst of the Indian country, but was mortified at
finding it strongly censured as inhuman, unnecessary, and likely to provoke
hostilities.

The parties thus united formed a squadron of two boats and six canoes,
with which they performed their voyage in safety down the river, and
arrived at Astoria on the 12th of June, bringing with them a valuable stock
of peltries.

About ten days previously, the brigade which had been quartered on the
banks of the Wollamut, had arrived with numerous packs of beaver, the
result of a few months' sojourn on that river. These were the first fruits of
the enterprise, gathered by men as yet mere strangers in the land; but they
CHAPTER LIV. 376

were such as to give substantial grounds for sanguine anticipations of

profit, when the country should be more completely explored, and the trade
established.

CHAPTER LIV.

The Partners Displeased With M'Dougal.− Equivocal Conduct of That

Gentleman− Partners Agree to Abandon Astoria.− Sale of Goods to
M'Tavish.− Arrangements for the Year.− Manifesto Signed by the
Partners− Departure of M'Tavish for the Interior.

THE partners found Mr. M'Dougal in all the bustle of preparation; having
about nine days previously announced at the factory, his intention of
breaking up the establishment, and fixed upon the 1st of July for the time of
departure. Messrs. Stuart and Clarke felt highly displeased at his taking so
precipitate a step, without waiting for their concurrence, when he must have
known that their arrival could not be far distant.

Indeed, the whole conduct of Mr. M'Dougal was such as to awaken strong
doubts as to his loyal devotion to the cause. His old sympathies with the
Northwest Company seem to have revived. He had received M'Tavish and
his party with uncalled for hospitality, as though they were friends and
allies, instead of being a party of observation, come to reconnoitre the state
of affairs at Astoria, and to await the arrival of a hostile ship. Had they been
left to themselves, they would have been starved off for want of provisions,
or driven away by the Chinooks, who only wanted a signal from the factory
to treat them as intruders and enemies. M'Dougal, on the contrary, had
supplied them from the stores of the garrison, and had gained them the
favor of the Indians, by treating them as friends.

Having set his mind fixedly on the project of breaking up the establishment
at Astoria, in the current year, M'Dougal was sorely disappointed at finding
that Messrs. Stuart and Clarke had omitted to comply with his request to
purchase horses and provisions for the caravan across the mountains. It was
now too late to make the necessary preparations in time for traversing the
CHAPTER LIV. 377

mountains before winter, and the project had to be postponed.

In the meantime, the non−arrival of the annual ship, and the apprehensions
entertained of the loss of the Beaver and of Mr. Hunt, had their effect upon
the minds of Messrs. Stuart and Clarke. They began to listen to the
desponding representations of M'Dougal, seconded by M'Kenzie, who
inveighed against their situation as desperate and forlorn; left to shift for
themselves, or perish upon a barbarous coast; neglected by those who sent
them there; and threatened with dangers of every kind. In this way they
were brought to consent to the plan of abandoning the country in the
ensuing year.

About this time, M'Tavish applied at the factory to purchase a small supply
of goods wherewith to trade his way back to his post on the upper waters of
the Columbia, having waited in vain for the arrival of the Isaac Todd. His
request brought on a consultation among the partners. M'Dougal urged that
it should be complied with. He furthermore proposed, that they should give
up to M'Tavish, for a proper consideration, the post on the Spokan, and all
its dependencies, as they had not sufficient goods on hand to supply that
post themselves, and to keep up a competition with the Northwest
Company in the trade with the neighboring Indians. This last representation
has since been proved incorrect. By inventories, it appears that their stock
in hand for the supply of the interior posts, was superior to that of the
Northwest Company; so that they had nothing to fear from competition.

Through the influence of Messrs. M'Dougal and M'Kenzie, this proposition

was adopted, and was promptly accepted by M'Tavish. The merchandise
sold to him amounted to eight hundred and fifty− eight dollars, to be paid
for, in the following spring, in horses, or in any other manner most
acceptable to the partners at that period.

This agreement being concluded, the partners formed their plans for the
year that they would yet have to pass in the country. Their objects were,
chiefly, present subsistence, and the purchase of horses for the
contemplated journey, though they were likewise to collect as much peltries
as their diminished means would command. Accordingly, it was arranged
CHAPTER LIV. 378

that David Stuart should return to his former post on the Oakinagan, and
Mr. Clarke should make his sojourn among the Flatheads. John Reed, the
sturdy Hibernian, was to undertake the Snake River country, accompanied
by Pierre Dorion and Pierre Delaunay, as hunters, and Francis Landry, Jean
Baptiste Turcotte, Andre la Chapelle, and Gilles le Clerc, Canadian
voyageurs.

Astoria, however, was the post about which they felt the greatest solicitude,
and on which they all more or less depended. The maintenance of this in
safety throughout the coming year, was, therefore, their grand
consideration. Mr. M'Dougal was to continue in command of it, with a
party of forty men. They would have to depend chiefly upon the
neighboring savages for their subsistence. These, at present, were friendly,
but it was to be feared that, when they should discover the exigencies of the
post, and its real weakness, they might proceed to hostilities; or, at any rate,
might cease to furnish their usual supplies. It was important, therefore, to
render the place as independent as possible, of the surrounding tribes for its
support; and it was accordingly resolved that M'Kenzie, with four hunters,
and eight common men, should winter in the abundant country of
Wollamut, from whence they might be enabled to furnish a constant supply
of provisions to Astoria.

As there was too great a proportion of clerks for the number of privates in
the service, the engagements of three of them, Ross Cox, Ross, and
M'Lennan, were surrendered to them, and they immediately enrolled
themselves in the service of the Northwest Company; glad, no doubt, to
escape from what they considered a sinking ship.

Having made all these arrangements, the four partners, on the first of July,
signed a formal manifesto, stating the alarming state of their affairs, from
the non−arrival of the annual ship, and the absence and apprehended loss of
the Beaver, their want of goods, their despair of receiving any further
supply, their ignorance of the coast, and their disappointment as to the
interior trade, which they pronounced unequal to the expenses incurred, and
incompetent to stand against the powerful opposition of the Northwest
Company. And as by the 16th article of the company's agreement, they
CHAPTER LV. 379

were authorized to abandon this undertaking, and dissolve the concern, if

before the period of five years it should be found unprofitable, they now
formally announced their intention to do so on the 1st day of June, of the
ensuing year, unless in the interim they should receive the necessary
support and supplies from Mr. Astor, or the stockholders, with orders to
continue.

This instrument, accompanied by private letters of similar import, was

delivered to Mr. M'Tavish, who departed on the 5th of July. He engaged to
forward the despatches to Mr. Astor, by the usual winter express sent
overland by the Northwest Company.

The manifesto was signed with great reluctance by Messrs. Clarke and D.
Stuart, whose experience by no means justified the discouraging account
given in it of the internal trade, and who considered the main difficulties of
exploring an unknown and savage country, and of ascertaining the best
trading and trapping grounds, in a great measure overcome. They were
overruled, however, by the urgent instances of M'Dougal and M'Kenzie,
who, having resolved upon abandoning the enterprise, were desirous of
making as strong a case as possible to excuse their conduct to Mr. Astor
and to the world.

CHAPTER LV.

Anxieties of Mr. Astor.− Memorial of the Northwest Company− Tidings of

a British Naval Expedition Against Astoria. − Mr. Astor Applies to
Government for Protection.− The Frigate Adams Ordered to be Fitted
Out.− Bright News From Astoria.− Sunshine Suddenly Overclouded.

WHILE difficulties and disasters had been gathering about the infant
settlement of Astoria, the mind of its projector at New York was a prey to
great anxiety. The ship Lark, despatched by him with supplies for the
establishment, sailed on the 6th of March, 1813. Within a fortnight
afterwards, he received intelligence which justified all his apprehensions of
hostility on the part of the British. The Northwest Company had made a
CHAPTER LV. 380

second memorial to that government, representing Astoria as an American

establishment, stating the vast scope of its contemplated operations,
magnifying the strength of its fortifications, and expressing their fears that,
unless crushed in the bud, it would effect the downfall of their trade.

Influenced by these representations, the British government ordered the

frigate Phoebe to be detached as a convoy for the armed ship, Isaac Todd,
which was ready to sail with men and munitions for forming a new
establishment. They were to proceed together to the mouth of the
Columbia, capture or destroy whatever American fortress they should find
there, and plant the British flag on its ruins.

Informed of these movements, Mr. Astor lost no time in addressing a

second letter to the secretary of state, communicating this intelligence, and
requesting it might be laid before the President; as no notice, however, had
been taken of his previous letter, he contented himself with this simple
communication, and made no further application for aid.

Awakened now to the danger that menaced the establishment at Astoria,

and aware of the importance of protecting this foothold of American
commerce and empire on the shores of the Pacific, the government
determined to send the frigate Adams, Captain Crane, upon this service. On
hearing of this determination, Mr. Astor immediately proceeded to fit out a
ship called the Enterprise, to sail in company with the Adams, freighted
with additional supplies and reinforcements for Astoria.

About the middle of June, while in the midst of these preparations, Mr.
Astor received a letter from Mr. R. Stuart, dated St. Louis, May 1st,
confirming the intelligence already received through the public newspapers,
of his safe return, and of the arrival of Mr. Hunt and his party at Astoria,
and giving the most flattering accounts of the prosperity of the enterprise.

So deep had been the anxiety of Mr. Astor, for the success of this object of
his ambition, that this gleam of good news was almost overpowering. "I felt
ready," said he, "to fall upon my knees in a transport of gratitude."
CHAPTER LVI. 381

At the same time he heard that the Beaver had made good her voyage from
New York to the Columbia. This was additional ground of hope for the
welfare of the little colony. The post being thus relieved and strengthened,
with an American at its head, and a ship of war about to sail for its
protection, the prospect for the future seemed full of encouragement, and
Mr. Astor proceeded with fresh vigor to fit out his merchant ship.

Unfortunately for Astoria, this bright gleam of sunshine was soon

overclouded. just as the Adams had received her complement of men, and
the two vessels were ready for sea, news came from Commodore
Chauncey, commanding on Lake Ontario, that a reinforcement of seamen
was wanted in that quarter. The demand was urgent, the crew of the Adams
was immediately transferred to that service, and the ship was laid up.

This was a most ill−timed and discouraging blow, but Mr. Astor would not
yet allow himself to pause in his undertaking. He determined to send the
Enterprise to sea alone, and let her take the chance of making her
unprotected way across the ocean. Just at this time, however, a British force
made its appearance off the Hook; and the port of New York was
effectually blockaded. To send a ship to sea under these circumstances,
would be to expose her to almost certain capture. The Enterprise was,
therefore, unloaded and dismantled, and Mr. Astor was obliged to comfort
himself with the hope that the Lark might reach Astoria in safety and, that,
aided by her supplies, and by the good management of Mr. Hunt and his
associates, the little colony might be able to maintain itself until the return
of peace.

CHAPTER LVI.

Affairs of State at Astoria.−M'Dougal Proposes for the Hand of An Indian

Princess− Matrimonial Embassy to Comcomly.− Matrimonial Notions
Among the Chinooks.− Settlements and Pin−Money.− The Bringing Home
of the Bride.− A Managing Father−in−Law.− Arrival of Mr. Hunt at
Astoria.
CHAPTER LVI. 382

WE have hitherto had so much to relate of a gloomy and disastrous nature,

that it is with a feeling of momentary relief we turn to something of a more
pleasing complexion, and record the first, and indeed only nuptials in high
life that took place in the infant settlement of Astoria.

M'Dougal, who appears to have been a man of a thousand projects, and of

great, though somewhat irregular ambition, suddenly conceived the idea of
seeking the hand of one of the native princesses, a daughter of the
one−eyed potentate Comcomly, who held sway over the fishing tribe of the
Chinooks, and had long supplied the factory with smelts and sturgeons.

Some accounts give rather a romantic origin to this affair, tracing it to the
stormy night when M'Dougal, in the course of an exploring expedition, was
driven by stress of weather to seek shelter in the royal abode of Comcomly.
Then and there he was first struck with the charms of the piscatory
princess, as she exerted herself to entertain her father's guest.

The "journal of Astoria," however, which was kept under his own eye,
records this union as a high state alliance, and great stroke of policy. The
factory had to depend, in a great measure, on the Chinooks for provisions.
They were at present friendly, but it was to be feared they would prove
otherwise, should they discover the weakness and the exigencies of the
post, and the intention to leave the country. This alliance, therefore, would
infallibly rivet Comcomly to the interests of the Astorians, and with him the
powerful tribe of the Chinooks. Be this as it may, and it is hard to fathom
the real policy of governors and princes, M'Dougal despatched two of the
clerks as ambassadors extraordinary, to wait upon the one−eyed chieftain,
and make overtures for the hand of his daughter.

The Chinooks, though not a very refined nation, have notions of

matrimonial arrangements that would not disgrace the most refined
sticklers for settlements and pin−money. The suitor repairs not to the bower
of his mistress, but to her father's lodge, and throws down a present at his
feet. His wishes are then disclosed by some discreet friend employed by
him for the purpose. If the suitor and his present find favor in the eyes of
the father, he breaks the matter to his daughter, and inquires into the state
CHAPTER LVI. 383

of her inclinations. Should her answer be favorable, the suit is accepted and
the lover has to make further presents to the father, of horses, canoes, and
other valuables, according to the beauty and merits of the bride; looking
forward to a return in kind whenever they shall go to housekeeping.

We have more than once had occasion to speak of the shrewdness, of

Comcomly; but never was it exerted more adroitly than on this occasion.
He was a great friend of M'Dougal, and pleased with the idea of having so
distinguished a son−in−law; but so favorable an opportunity of benefiting
his own fortune was not likely to occur a second time, and he determined to
make the most of it. Accordingly, the negotiation was protracted with true
diplomatic skill. Conference after conference was held with the two
ambassadors. Comcomly was extravagant in his terms; rating the charms of
his daughter at the highest price, and indeed she is represented as having
one of the flattest and most aristocratical heads in the tribe. At length the
preliminaries were all happily adjusted. On the 20th of July, early in the
afternoon, a squadron of canoes crossed over from the village of the
Chinooks, bearing the royal family of Comcomly, and all his court.

That worthy sachem landed in princely state, arrayed in a bright blue

blanket and red breech clout, with an extra quantity of paint and feathers,
attended by a train of half−naked warriors and nobles. A horse was in
waiting to receive the princess, who was mounted behind one of the clerks,
and thus conveyed, coy but compliant, to the fortress. Here she was
received with devout, though decent joy, by her expecting bridegroom.

Her bridal adornments, it is true, at first caused some little dismay, having
painted and anointed herself for the occasion according to the Chinook
toilet; by dint, however, of copious ablutions, she was freed from all
adventitious tint and fragrance, and entered into the nuptial state, the
cleanest princess that had ever been known, of the somewhat unctuous tribe
of the Chinooks.

From that time forward, Comcomly was a daily visitor at the fort, and was
admitted into the most intimate councils of his son−in− law. He took an
interest in everything that was going forward, but was particularly frequent
CHAPTER LVII. 384

in his visits to the blacksmith's shop; tasking the labors of the artificer in
iron for every state, insomuch that the necessary business of the factory was
often postponed to attend to his requisitions.

The honey−moon had scarce passed away, and M'Dougal was seated with
his bride in the fortress of Astoria, when, about noon of the 20th of August,
Gassacop, the son of Comcomly, hurried into his presence with great
agitation, and announced a ship at the mouth of the river. The news
produced a vast sensation. Was it a ship of peace or war? Was it American
or British? Was it the Beaver or the Isaac Todd? M'Dougal hurried to the
waterside, threw himself into a boat, and ordered the hands to pull with all
speed for the mouth of the harbor. Those in the fort remained watching the
entrance of the river, anxious to know whether they were to prepare for
greeting a friend or fighting an enemy. At length the ship was descried
crossing the bar, and bending her course towards Astoria. Every gaze was
fixed upon her in silent scrutiny, until the American flag was recognized. A
general shout was the first expression of joy, and next a salutation was
thundered from the cannon of the fort.

The vessel came to anchor on the opposite side of the river, and returned
the salute. The boat of Mr. M'Dougal went on board, and was seen
returning late in the afternoon. The Astorians watched her with straining
eyes, to discover who were on board, but the sun went down, and the
evening closed in, before she was sufficiently near. At length she reached
the land, and Mr. Hunt stepped on shore. He was hailed as one risen from
the dead, and his return was a signal for merriment almost equal to that
which prevailed at the nuptials of M'Dougal.

We must now explain the cause of this gentleman's long absence, which
had given rise to such gloomy and dispiriting surmises.

CHAPTER LVII.

Voyage of the Beaver to New Archangel.− A Russian Governor.−

Roystering Rule.− The Tyranny of the Table− Hard Drinking
CHAPTER LVII. 385

Bargainings.− Voyage to Kamtschatka.− Seal Catching Establishment at St.

Paul's.− Storms at Sea.− Mr. Hunt Left at the Sandwich Islands.
−Transactions of the Beaver at Canton.−Return of Mr. Hunt to Astoria.

IT will be recollected that the destination of the Boston, when she sailed
from Astoria on the 4th of August in 1812, was to proceed northwardly
along the coast to Sheetka, or New Archangel, there to dispose of that part
of her cargo intended for the supply of the Russian establishment at that
place, and then to return to Astoria, where it was expected she would arrive
in October.

New Archangel is situated in Norfolk Sound, lat. 57deg 2' N., long. 135deg
50' W. It was the head−quarters of the different colonies of the Russian Fur
Company, and the common rendezvous of the American vessels trading
along the coast.

The Beaver met with nothing worthy of particular mention in her voyage,
and arrived at New Archangel on the 19th of August. The place at that time
was the residence of Count Baranoff, the governor of the different colonies;
a rough, rugged, hospitable, hard−drinking old Russian; somewhat of a
soldier; somewhat of a trader; above all, a boon companion of the old
roystering school, with a strong cross of the bear.

Mr. Hunt found this hyperborean veteran ensconced in a fort which crested
the whole of a rocky promontory. It mounted one hundred guns, large and
small, and was impregnable to Indian attack, unaided by artillery. Here the
old governor lorded it over sixty Russians, who formed the corps of the
trading establishment, besides an indefinite number of Indian hunters of the
Kodiak tribe, who were continually coming and going, or lounging and
loitering about the fort like so many hounds round a sportsman's hunting
quarters. Though a loose liver among his guests, the governor was a strict
disciplinarian among his men; keeping them in perfect subjection, and
having seven on guard night and day.

Besides those immediate serfs and dependents just mentioned, the old
Russian potentate exerted a considerable sway over a numerous and
CHAPTER LVII. 386

irregular class of maritime traders, who looked to him for aid and
munitions, and through whom he may be said to have, in some degree,
extended his power along the whole northwest coast. These were American
captains of vessels engaged in a particular department of the trade. One of
these captains would come, in a manner, empty−handed to New Archangel.
Here his ship would be furnished with about fifty canoes and a hundred
Kodiak hunters, and fitted out with provisions, and everything necessary
for hunting the sea−otter on the coast of California, where the Russians
have another establishment. The ship would ply along the California coast
from place to place, dropping parties of otter hunters in their canoes,
furnishing them only with water, and leaving them to depend upon their
own dexterity for a maintenance. When a sufficient cargo was collected,
she would gather up her canoes and hunters, and return with them to
Archangel; where the captain would render in the returns of his voyage, and
receive one half of the skins for his share.

Over these coasting captains, as we have hinted, the veteran governor

exerted some sort of sway, but it was of a peculiar and characteristic kind;
it was the tyranny of the table. They were obliged to join him in his
"prosnics" or carousals, and to drink "potations pottle deep." His carousals,
too, were not of the most quiet kind, nor were his potations as mild as
nectar. "He is continually," said Mr. Hunt, "giving entertainments by way
of parade, and if you do not drink raw rum, and boiling punch as strong as
sulphur, he will insult you as soon as he gets drunk, which is very shortly
after sitting down to table."

As to any "temperance captain" who stood fast to his faith, and refused to
give up his sobriety, he might go elsewhere for a market, for he stood no
chance with the governor. Rarely, however, did any cold−water caitiff of
the kind darken the doors of old Baranoff; the coasting captains knew too
well his humor and their own interests; they joined in his revels, they drank,
and sang, and whooped, and hiccuped, until they all got "half seas over,"
and then affairs went on swimmingly.

An awful warning to all "flinchers" occurred shortly before Mr. Hunt's

arrival. A young naval officer had recently been sent out by the emperor to
CHAPTER LVII. 387

take command of one of the company's vessels. The governor, as usual, had
him at his "prosnics," and plied him with fiery potations. The young man
stood on the defensive until the old count's ire was completely kindled; he
carried his point, and made the greenhorn tipsy, willy nilly. In proportion as
they grew fuddled they grew noisy, they quarrelled in their cups; the
youngster paid old Baranoff in his own coin by rating him soundly; in
reward for which, when sober, he was taken the rounds of four pickets, and
received seventy−nine lashes, taled out with Russian punctuality of
punishment.

Such was the old grizzled bear with whom Mr. Hunt had to do his business.
How he managed to cope with his humor; whether he pledged himself in
raw rum and blazing punch, and "clinked the can" with him as they made
their bargains, does not appear upon record; we must infer, however, from
his general observations on the absolute sway of this hard−drinking
potentate, that he had to conform to the customs of his court, and that their
business transactions presented a maudlin mixture of punch and peltry.

The greatest annoyance to Mr. Hunt, however, was the delay to which he
was subjected, in disposing of the cargo of the ship, and getting the
requisite returns. With all the governor's devotions to the bottle, he never
obfuscated his faculties sufficiently to lose sight of his interest, and is
represented by Mr. Hunt as keen, not to say crafty, at a bargain, as the most
arrant waterdrinker. A long time was expended negotiating with him, and
by the time the bargain was concluded, the month of October had arrived.
To add to the delay he was to be paid for his cargo in seal skins. Now it so
happened that there was none of this kind of peltry at the fort of old
Baranoff. It was necessary, therefore, for Mr. Hunt to proceed to a
seal−catching establishment, which the Russian company had at the island
of St. Paul, in the Sea of Kamtschatka. He accordingly set sail on the 4th of
October, after having spent forty−five days at New Archangel boosing and
bargaining with its roystering commander, and right glad was he to escape
from the clutches of "this old man of the sea."

The Beaver arrived at St. Paul's on the 31st of October; by which time,
according to arrangement, he ought to have been back at Astoria. The
CHAPTER LVII. 388

island of St. Paul is in latitude 57deg N., longitude 170deg or 171deg W. Its
shores, in certain places, and at certain seasons, are covered with seals,
while others are playing about in the water. Of these, the Russians take only
the small ones, from seven to ten months old, and carefully select the
males, giving the females their freedom, that the breed may not be
diminished. The islanders, however, kill the large ones for provisions, and
for skins wherewith to cover their canoes. They drive them from the shore
over the rocks, until within a short distance of their habitations, where they
kill them. By this means, they save themselves the trouble of carrying the
skins and have the flesh at hand. This is thrown in heaps, and when the
season for skinning is over, they take out the entrails and make one heap of
the blubber. This, with drift−wood, serves for fuel, for the island is entirely
destitute of trees. They make another heap of the flesh, which, with the
eggs of sea− fowls, preserved in oil, an occasional sea−lion, a few ducks in
winter, and some wild roots, compose their food.

Mr. Hunt found several Russians at the island, and one hundred hunters,
natives of Oonalaska, with their families. They lived in cabins that looked
like canoes; being, for the most part formed of the jaw−bone of a whale,
put up as rafters, across which were laid pieces of driftwood covered over
with long grass, the skins of large sea animals, and earth; so as to be quite
comfortable, in despite of the rigors of the climate; though we are told they
had as ancient and fish−like an odor, "as had the quarters of Jonah, when he
lodged within the whale."

In one of these odoriferous mansions, Mr. Hunt occasionally took up his

abode, that he might be at hand to hasten the loading of the ship. The
operation, however, was somewhat slow, for it was necessary to overhaul
and inspect every pack to prevent imposition, and the peltries had then to
be conveyed in large boats, made of skins, to the ship, which was some
little distance from the shore, standing off and on.

One night, while Mr. Hunt was on shore, with some others of the crew,
there arose a terrible gale. When the day broke, the ship was not to be seen.
He watched for her with anxious eyes until night, but in vain. Day after day
of boisterous storms, and howling wintry weather, were passed in
CHAPTER LVII. 389

watchfulness and solicitude. Nothing was to be seen but a dark and angry
sea, and a scowling northern sky; and at night he retired within the jaws of
the whale, and nestled disconsolately among seal skins.

At length, on the 13th of November, the Beaver made her appearance;

much the worse for the stormy conflicts which she had sustained in those
hyperborean seas. She had been obliged to carry a press of sail in heavy
gales to be able to hold her ground, and had consequently sustained great
damage in her canvas and rigging. Mr. Hunt lost no time in hurrying the
residue of the cargo on board of her; then, bidding adieu to his seal−fishing
friends, and his whalebone habitation, he put forth once more to sea.

He was now for making the best of his way to Astoria, and fortunate would
it have been for the interests of that place, and the interests of Mr. Astor,
had he done so; but, unluckily, a perplexing question rose in his mind. The
sails and rigging of the Beaver had been much rent and shattered in the late
storm; would she be able to stand the hard gales to be expected in making
Columbia River at this season? Was it prudent, also, at this boisterous time
of the year to risk the valuable cargo which she now had on board, by
crossing and recrossing the dangerous bar of that river? These doubts were
probably suggested or enforced by Captain Sowle, who, it has already been
seen, was an over−cautious, or rather, a timid seaman, and they may have
had some weight with Mr. Hunt; but there were other considerations, which
more strongly swayed his mind. The lateness of the season, and the
unforeseen delays the ship had encountered at New Archangel, and by
being obliged to proceed to St. Paul's, had put her so much back in her
calculated time, that there was a risk of her arriving so late at Canton, as to
come to a bad market, both for the sale of her peltries, and the purchase of a
return cargo. He considered it to the interest of the company, therefore, that
he should proceed at once to the Sandwich Islands; there wait the arrival of
the annual vessel from New York, take passage in her to Astoria, and suffer
the Beaver to continue on to Canton.

On the other hand, he was urged to the other course by his engagements; by
the plan of the voyage marked out for the Beaver, by Mr. Astor; by his
inclination, and the possibility that the establishment might need his
CHAPTER LVII. 390

presence, and by the recollection that there must already be a large amount
of peltries collected at Astoria, and waiting for the return of the Beaver, to
convey them to market.

These conflicting questions perplexed and agitated his mind and gave rise
to much anxious reflection, for he was a conscientious man that seems ever
to have aimed at a faithful discharge of his duties, and to have had the
interests of his employers earnestly at heart. His decision in the present
instance was injudicious, and proved unfortunate. It was, to bear away for
the Sandwich Islands. He persuaded himself that it was a matter of
necessity, and that the distressed condition of the ship left him no other
alternative; but we rather suspect he was so persuaded by the
representations of the timid captain. They accordingly stood for the
Sandwich Islands, arrived at Woahoo, where the ship underwent the
necessary repairs, and again put to sea on the 1st of January, 1813; leaving
Mr. Hunt on the island.

We will follow the Beaver to Canton, as her fortunes, in some measure,

exemplify the evil of commanders of ships acting contrary to orders; and as
they form a part of the tissue of cross purposes that marred the great
commercial enterprise we have undertaken to record.

The Beaver arrived safe at Canton, where Captain Sowle found the letter of
Mr. Astor, giving him information of the war and directing him to convey
the intelligence to Astoria. He wrote a reply, dictated either by timidity or
obstinacy, in which he declined complying with the orders of Mr. Astor,
but said he would wait for the return of peace, and then come home. The
other proceedings of Captain Sowle were equally wrongheaded and
unlucky. He was offered one hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the fur
he had taken on board at St. Paul's. The goods for which it had been
procured cost but twenty−five thousand dollars in New York. Had he
accepted this offer, and re−invested the amount in nankeens, which at that
time, in consequence of the interruption to commerce by the war, were at
two thirds of their usual price, the whole would have brought three hundred
thousand dollars in New York. It is true, the war would have rendered it
unsafe to attempt the homeward voyage, but he might have put the goods in
CHAPTER LVII. 391

store at Canton, until after the peace, and have sailed without risk of
capture to Astoria; bringing to the partners at that place tidings of the great
profits realized on the outward cargo, and the still greater to be expected
from the returns. The news of such a brilliant commencement to their
undertaking would have counterbalanced the gloomy tidings of the war; it
would have infused new spirit into them all, and given them courage and
constancy to persevere in the enterprise. Captain Sowle, however, refused
the offer of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and stood wavering and
chaffering for higher terms. The furs began to fall in value; this only
increased his irresolution; they sunk so much that he feared to sell at all; he
borrowed money on Mr. Astor's account at an interest of eighteen per cent ,
and laid up his ship to await the return of peace.

In the meanwhile, Mr. Hunt soon saw reason to repent the resolution he had
adopted in altering the destination of the ship. His stay at the Sandwich
Islands was prolonged far beyond expectation. He looked in vain for the
annual ship in the spring. Month after month passed by, and still she did not
make her appearance. He, too, proved the danger of departing from orders.
Had he returned from St. Paul's to Astoria, all the anxiety and despondency
about his fate, and about the whole course of the undertaking, would have
been obviated. The Beaver would have received the furs collected at the
factory and taken them to Canton, and great gains, instead of great losses,
would have been the result. The greatest blunder, however, was that
committed by Captain Sowle.

At length, about the 20th of June, the ship Albatross, Captain Smith,
arrived from China, and brought the first tidings of the war to the Sandwich
Islands. Mr. Hunt was no longer in doubt and perplexity as to the reason of
the non−appearance of the annual ship. His first thoughts were for the
welfare of Astoria, and, concluding that the inhabitants would probably be
in want of provisions, he chartered the Albatross for two thousand dollars,
to land him, with some supplies, at the mouth of the Columbia, where he
arrived, as we have seen, on the 20th of August, after a year's seafaring that
might have furnished a chapter in the wanderings of Sinbad.
CHAPTER LVIII. 392

CHAPTER LVIII.

Arrangements Among the Partners− Mr. Hunt Sails in the Albatross. −

Arrives at the Marquesas− News of the Frigate Phoebe.− Mr. Hunt
Proceeds to the Sandwich Islands.− Voyage of the Lark.− Her Shipwreck.−
Transactions With the Natives of the Sandwich Islands − Conduct of
Tamaahmaah.

MR. HUNT was overwhelmed with surprise when he learnt the resolution
taken by the partners to abandon Astoria. He soon found, however, that
matters had gone too far, and the minds of his colleagues had become too
firmly bent upon the measure, to render any opposition of avail. He was
beset, too, with the same disparaging accounts of the interior trade, and of
the whole concerns and prospects of the company that had been rendered to
Mr. Astor. His own experience had been full of perplexities and
discouragements. He had a conscientious anxiety for the interests of Mr.
Astor, and, not comprehending the extended views of that gentleman, and
his habit of operating with great amounts, he had from the first been
daunted by the enormous expenses required, and had become disheartened
by the subsequent losses sustained, which appeared to him to be ruinous in
their magnitude. By degrees, therefore, he was brought to acquiesce in the
step taken by his colleagues, as perhaps advisable in the exigencies of the
case; his only care was to wind up the business with as little further loss as
possible to Mr. Astor.

A large stock of valuable furs was collected at the factory, which it was
necessary to get to a market. There were twenty−five Sandwich Islanders
also in the employ of the company, whom they were bound, by express
agreement, to restore to their native country. For these purposes a ship was
necessary.

The Albatross was bound to the Marquesas, and thence to the Sandwich
Islands. It was resolved that Mr. Hunt should sail in her in quest of a vessel,
and should return, if possible, by the 1st of January, bringing with him a
supply of provisions. Should anything occur, however, to prevent his
return, an arrangement was to be proposed to Mr. M'Tavish, to transfer
CHAPTER LVIII. 393

such of the men as were so disposed, from the service of the American Fur
Company into that of the Northwest, the latter becoming responsible for the
wages due them, on receiving an equivalent in goods from the store−house
of the factory. As a means of facilitating the despatch of business, Mr.
M'Dougal proposed, that in case Mr. Hunt should not return, the whole
arrangement with Mr. M'Tavish should be left solely to him. This was
assented to; the contingency being considered possible, but not probable.

It is proper to note, that, on the first announcement by Mr. M'Dougal of his

intention to break up the establishment, three of the clerks, British subjects,
had, with his consent, passed into the service of the Northwest Company,
and departed with Mr. M'Tavish for his post in the interior.

Having arranged all these matters during a sojourn of six days at Astoria,
Mr. Hunt set sail in the Albatross on the 26th of August, and arrived
without accident at the Marquesas. He had not been there long, when Porter
arrived in the frigate Essex, bringing in a number of stout London whalers
as prizes, having made a sweeping cruise in the Pacific. From Commodore
Porter he received the alarming intelligence that the British frigate Phoebe,
with a store−ship mounted with battering pieces, calculated to attack forts,
had arrived at Rio Janeiro, where she had been joined by the sloops of war
Cherub and Raccoon, and that they had all sailed in company on the 6th of
July for the Pacific, bound, as it was supposed, to Columbia River.

Here, then, was the death−warrant of unfortunate Astoria! The anxious

mind of Mr. Hunt was in greater perplexity than ever. He had been eager to
extricate the property of Mr. Astor from a failing concern with as little loss
as possible; there was now danger that the whole would be swallowed up.
How was it to be snatched from the gulf? It was impossible to charter a ship
for the purpose, now that a British squadron was on its way to the river. He
applied to purchase one of the whale ships brought in by Commodore
Porter. The commodore demanded twenty−five thousand dollars for her.
The price appeared exorbitant, and no bargain could be made. Mr. Hunt
then urged the commodore to fit out one of his prizes, and send her to
Astoria, to bring off the property and part of the people, but he declined,
"from want of authority." He assured Mr. Hunt, however, that he would
CHAPTER LVIII. 394

endeavor to fall in with the enemy, or should he hear of their having

certainly gone to the Columbia, he would either follow or anticipate them,
should his circumstances warrant such a step.

In this tantalizing state of suspense, Mr. Hunt was detained at the

Marquesas until November 23d, when he proceeded in the Albatross to the
Sandwich Islands. He still cherished a faint hope that, notwithstanding the
war, and all other discouraging circumstances, the annual ship might have
been sent by Mr. Astor, and might have touched at the islands, and
proceeded to the Columbia. He knew the pride and interest taken by that
gentleman in his great enterprise, and that he would not be deterred by
dangers and difficulties from prosecuting it; much less would he leave the
infant establishment without succor and support in the time of trouble. In
this, we have seen, he did but justice to Mr. Astor; and we must now turn to
notice the cause of the non− arrival of the vessel which he had despatched
with reinforcements and supplies. Her voyage forms another chapter of
accidents in this eventful story.

The Lark sailed from New York on the 6th of March, 1813, and proceeded
prosperously on her voyage, until within a few degrees of the Sandwich
Islands. Here a gale sprang up that soon blew with tremendous violence.
The Lark was a staunch and noble ship, and for a time buffeted bravely
with the storm. Unluckily, however, she "broached to," and was struck by a
heavy sea, that hove her on her beam−ends. The helm, too, was knocked to
leeward, all command of the vessel was lost, and another mountain wave
completely overset her. Orders were given to cut away the masts. In the
hurry and confusion, the boats also were unfortunately cut adrift. The
wreck then righted, but was a mere hulk, full of water, with a heavy sea
washing over it, and all the hatches off. On mustering the crew, one man
was missing, who was discovered below in the forecastle, drowned.

In cutting away the masts, it had been utterly impossible to observe the
necessary precaution of commencing with the lee rigging, that being, from
the position of the ship, completely under water. The masts and spars,
therefore, being linked to the wreck by the shrouds and the rigging,
remained alongside for four days. During all this time the ship lay rolling in
CHAPTER LVIII. 395

the trough of the sea, the heavy surges breaking over her, and the spars
heaving and banging to and fro, bruising the half−drowned sailors that
clung to the bowsprit and the stumps of the masts. The sufferings of these
poor fellows were intolerable. They stood to their waists in water, in
imminent peril of being washed off by every surge. In this position they
dared not sleep, lest they should let go their hold and be swept away. The
only dry place on the wreck was the bowsprit. Here they took turns to be
tied on, for half an hour at a time, and in this way gained short snatches of
sleep.

On the 14th, the first mate died at his post, and was swept off by the surges.
On the 17th, two seamen, faint and exhausted, were washed overboard. The
next wave threw their bodies back upon the deck, where they remained,
swashing backward and forward, ghastly objects to the almost perishing
survivors. Mr. Ogden, the supercargo, who was at the bowsprit, called to
the men nearest to the bodies, to fasten them to the wreck; as a last horrible
resource in case of being driven to extremity by famine!

On the 17th the gale gradually subsided, and the sea became calm. The
sailors now crawled feebly about the wreck, and began to relieve it from the
main incumbrances. The spars were cleared away, the anchors and guns
heaved overboard; the sprit−sail yard was rigged for a jury−mast, and a
mizzen topsail set upon it. A sort of stage was made of a few broken spars,
on which the crew were raised above the surface of the water, so as to be
enabled to keep themselves dry, and to sleep comfortably. Still their
sufferings from hunger and thirst were great; but there was a Sandwich
Islander on board, an expert swimmer, who found his way into the cabin,
and occasionally brought up a few bottles of wine and porter, and at length
got into the rum, and secured a quarter cask of wine. A little raw pork was
likewise procured, and dealt out with a sparing hand. The horrors of their
situation were increased by the sight of numerous sharks prowling about
the wreck, as if waiting for their prey. On the 24th, the cook, a black man,
died, and was cast into the sea, when he was instantly seized on by these
ravenous monsters.
CHAPTER LVIII. 396

They had been several days making slow headway under their scanty sail,
when, on the 25th, they came in sight of land. It was about fifteen leagues
distant, and they remained two or three days drifting along in sight of it. On
the 28th, they descried, to their great transport, a canoe approaching,
managed by natives. They came alongside, and brought a most welcome
supply of potatoes. They informed them that the land they had made was
one of the Sandwich Islands. The second mate and one of the seamen went
on shore in the canoe for water and provisions, and to procure aid from the
islanders, in towing the wreck into a harbor.

Neither of the men returned, nor was any assistance sent from shore. The
next day, ten or twelve canoes came alongside, but roamed round the wreck
like so many sharks, and would render no aid in towing her to land.

The sea continued to break over the vessel with such violence, that it was
impossible to stand at the helm without the assistance of lashings. The crew
were now so worn down by famine and thirst, that the captain saw it would
be impossible for them to withstand the breaking of the sea, when the ship
should ground; he deemed the only chance for their lives, therefore, was to
get to land in the canoes, and stand ready to receive and protect the wreck
when she should drift ashore. Accordingly, they all got safe to land, but had
scarcely touched the beach when they were surrounded by the natives, who
stripped them almost naked. The name of this inhospitable island was
Tahoorowa.

In the course of the night, the wreck came drifting to the strand, with the
surf thundering around her, and shortly afterwards bilged. On the following
morning, numerous casks of provisions floated on shore. The natives staved
them for the sake of the iron hoops, but would not allow the crew to help
themselves to the contents, or to go on board of the wreck.

As the crew were in want of everything, and as it might be a long time

before any opportunity occurred for them to get away from these islands,
Mr. Ogden, as soon as he could get a chance, made his way to the island of
Owyhee, and endeavored to make some arrangement with the king for the
relief of his companions in misfortune.
CHAPTER LVIII. 397

The illustrious Tamaahmaah, as we have shown on a former occasion, was

a shrewd bargainer, and in the present instance proved himself an
experienced wrecker. His negotiations with M'Dougal, and the other "Eris
of the great American Fur Company," had but little effect on present
circumstances, and he proceeded to avail himself of their misfortunes. He
agreed to furnish the crew with provisions during their stay in his
territories, and to return to them all their clothing that could be found, but
he stipulated that the wreck should be abandoned to him as a waif cast by
fortune on his shores. With these conditions Mr. Ogden was fain to comply.
Upon this the great Tamaahmaah deputed his favorite, John Young, the
tarpaulin governor of Owyhee, to proceed with a number of royal guards,
and take possession of the wreck on behalf of the crown. This was done
accordingly, and the property and crew were removed to Owyhee. The
royal bounty appears to have been but scanty in its dispensations. The crew
fared but meagerly; though, on reading the journal of the voyage, it is
singular to find them, after all the hardships they had suffered, so sensitive
about petty inconveniences, as to exclaim against the king as a "savage
monster," for refusing them a "pot to cook in," and denying Mr. Ogden the
use of a knife and fork which had been saved from the wreck.

Such was the unfortunate catastrophe of the Lark; had she reached her
destination in safety, affairs at Astoria might have taken a different course.
A strange fatality seems to have attended all the expeditions by sea, nor
were those by land much less disastrous.

Captain Northrop was still at the Sandwich Islands, on December 20th,

when Mr. Hunt arrived. The latter immediately purchased, for ten thousand
dollars, a brig called the Pedler, and put Captain Northrop in command of
her. They set sail for Astoria on the 22d January, intending to remove the
property from thence as speedily as possible to the Russian settlements on
the northwest coast, to prevent it from falling into the hands of the British.
Such were the orders of Mr. Astor, sent out by the Lark.

We will now leave Mr. Hunt on his voyage, and return to see what has
taken place at Astoria during his absence.
CHAPTER LIX. 398

CHAPTER LIX.

Arrival of M'Tavish at Astoria.− Conduct of His Followers.− Negotiations

of M'Dougal and M'Tavish. − Bargain for the Transfer of Astoria− Doubts
Entertained of the Loyalty of M'Dougal.

0N the 2d of October, about five weeks after Mr. Hunt had sailed in the
Albatross from Astoria, Mr. M'Kenzie set off with two canoes, and twelve
men, for the posts of Messrs. Stuart and Clarke, to appraise them of the new
arrangements determined upon in the recent conference of the partners at
the factory.

He had not ascended the river a hundred miles, when he met a squadron of
ten canoes, sweeping merrily down under British colors, the Canadian
oarsmen, as usual, in full song.

It was an armament fitted out by M'Tavish, who had with him Mr. J. Stuart,
another partner of the Northwest Company, together with some clerks, and
sixty−eight men − seventy−five souls in all. They had heard of the frigate
Phoebe and the Isaac Todd being on the high seas, and were on their way
down to await their arrival. In one of the canoes Mr. Clarke came as a
passenger, the alarming intelligence having brought him down from his
post on the Spokan. Mr. M'Kenzie immediately determined to return with
him to Astoria, and, veering about, the two parties encamped together for
the night. The leaders, of course, observed a due decorum, but some of the
subalterns could not restrain their chuckling exultation, boasting that they
would soon plant the British standard on the walls of Astoria, and drive the
Americans out of the country.

In the course of the evening, Mr. M'Kenzie had a secret conference with
Mr. Clarke, in which they agreed to set off privately before daylight, and
get down in time to appraise M'Dougal of the approach of these
Northwesters. The latter, however, were completely on the alert; just as
M'Kenzie's canoes were about to push off, they were joined by a couple
from the Northwest squadron, in which was M'Tavish, with two clerks, and
eleven men. With these, he intended to push forward and make
CHAPTER LIX. 399

arrangements, leaving the rest of the convoy, in which was a large quantity
of furs, to await his orders.

The two parties arrived at Astoria on the 7th of October. The Northwesters
encamped under the guns of the fort, and displayed the British colors. The
young men in the fort, natives of the United States, were on the point of
hoisting the American flag, but were forbidden by Mr. M'Dougal. They
were astonished at such a prohibition, and were exceedingly galled by the
tone and manner assumed by the clerks and retainers of the Northwest
Company, who ruffled about in that swelling and braggart style which
grows up among these heroes of the wilderness; they, in fact, considered
themselves lords of the ascendant and regarded the hampered and harassed
Astorians as a conquered people.

On the following day M'Dougal convened the clerks, and read to them an
extract from a letter from his uncle, Mr. Angus Shaw, one of the principal
partners of the Northwest Company, announcing the coming of the Phoebe
and Isaac Todd, "to take and destroy everything American on the northwest
coast."

This intelligence was received without dismay by such of the clerks as were
natives of the United States. They had felt indignant at seeing their national
flag struck by a Canadian commander, and the British flag flowed, as it
were, in their faces. They had been stung to the quick, also, by the vaunting
airs assumed by the Northwesters. In this mood of mind, they would
willingly have nailed their colors to the staff , and defied the frigate. She
could not come within many miles of the fort, they observed, and any boats
she might send could be destroyed by their cannon.

There were cooler and more calculating spirits, however, who had the
control of affairs, and felt nothing of the patriotic pride and indignation of
these youths. The extract of the letter had, apparently, been read by
M'Dougal, merely to prepare the way for a preconcerted stroke of
management. On the same day Mr. M'Tavish proposed to purchase the
whole stock of goods and furs belonging to the company, both at Astoria
and in the interior, at cost and charges. Mr. M'Dougal undertook to comply;
CHAPTER LIX. 400

assuming the whole management of the negotiation in virtue of the power

vested in him, in case of the non−arrival of Mr. Hunt. That power,
however, was limited and specific, and did not extend to an operation of
this nature and extent; no objection, however, was made to his assumption,
and he and M'Tavish soon made a preliminary arrangement, perfectly
satisfactory to the latter.

Mr. Stuart, and the reserve party of Northwesters, arrived shortly

afterwards, and encamped with M'Tavish. The former exclaimed loudly
against the terms of the arrangement, and insisted upon a reduction of the
prices. New negotiations had now to be entered into. The demands of the
Northwesters were made in a peremptory tone, and they seemed disposed
to dictate like conquerors. The Americans looked on with indignation and
impatience. They considered M'Dougal as acting, if not a perfidious,
certainly a craven part. He was continually repairing to the camp to
negotiate, instead of keeping within his walls and receiving overtures in his
fortress. His case, they observed, was not so desperate as to excuse such
crouching. He might, in fact, hold out for his own terms. The Northwest
party had lost their ammunition; they had no goods to trade with the natives
for provisions; and they were so destitute that M'Dougal had absolutely to
feed them, while he negotiated with them. He, on the contrary, was well
lodged and victualled; had sixty men, with arms, ammunition, boats, and
everything requisite either for defense or retreat. The party, beneath the
guns of his fort, were at his mercy; should an enemy appear in the offing,
he could pack up the most valuable part of the property and retire to some
place of concealment, or make off for the interior.

These considerations, however, had no weight with Mr. M'Dougal, or were

overruled by other motives. The terms of sale were lowered by him to the
standard fixed by Mr. Stuart, and an agreement executed on the 16th of
October, by which the furs and merchandise of all kinds in the country,
belonging to Mr. Astor, passed into the possession of the Northwest
Company at about a third of their value. * A safe passage through the
Northwest posts was guaranteed to such as did not choose to enter into the
service of that Company, and the amount of wages due to them was to be
deducted from the price paid for Astoria.
CHAPTER LIX. 401

The conduct and motives of Mr. M'Dougal, throughout the whole of this
proceeding, have been strongly questioned by the other partners. He has
been accused of availing himself of a wrong construction of powers vested
in him at his own request, and of sacrificing the interests of Mr. Astor to the
Northwest Company, under the promise or hope of advantage to himself.

He always insisted, however, that he made the best bargain for Mr. Astor
that circumstances would permit; the frigate being hourly expected, in
which case the whole property of that gentleman would be liable to capture.
That the return of Mr. Hunt was problematical; the frigate intending to
cruise along the coast for two years, and clear it of all American vessels. He
moreover averred, and M'Tavish corroborated his averment by certificate,
that he proposed an arrangement to that gentleman, by which the furs were
to be sent to Canton, and sold there at Mr. Astor's risk, and for his account;
but the proposition was not acceded to.

Notwithstanding all his representations, several of the persons present at the

transaction, and acquainted with the whole course of the affair, and among
the number Mr. M'Kenzie himself, his occasional coadjutor, remained firm
in the belief that he had acted a hollow part. Neither did he succeed in
exculpating himself to Mr. Astor; that gentleman declaring, in a letter
written some time afterwards, to Mr. Hunt, that he considered the property
virtually given away. "Had our place and our property," he adds, "been
fairly captured, I should have preferred it; I should not feel as if I were
disgraced."

All these may be unmerited suspicions; but it certainly is a circumstance

strongly corroborative of them, that Mr. M'Dougal, shortly after concluding
this agreement, became a member of the Northwest Company, and received
a share productive of a handsome income.

* Not quite $40,000 were allowed for furs worth upwards of $100,000.
Beaver was valued at two dollars per skin, though worth five dollars. Land
otter at fifty cents, though worth five dollars. Sea−otter at twelve dollars,
worth from forty−five to sixty dollars; and for several kinds of furs nothing
was allowed. Moreover, the goods and merchandise for the Indian trade
CHAPTER LX. 402

ought to have brought three times the amount for which they were sold.

The following estimate has been made of the articles on hand, and the
prices:

17,705 lbs. beaver parchment, valued at $2.00 worth $5.00 465 old coat
beaver, valued at 1.66 worth 3.50

907 land otter, valued at .50 worth 5.00 68 sea−otter, valued at 12.00 worth
45 to 60.00 30 sea−otter, valued at 5.00 worth 25.00

Nothing was allowed for 179 mink skins, worth each .40 22 raccoon, worth
each .40 28 lynx, worth each 2.00 18 fox, worth each 1.00 106 fox, worth
each 1.50 71 black bear, worth each 4.00 16 grizzly bear, worth each 10.00

CHAPTER LX.

Arrival of a Strange Sail.− Agitation at Astoria.− Warlike Offer of

Comcomly. − Astoria Taken Possession of by the British. − Indignation of
Comcomly at the Conduct of His Son−in−Law.

0N the morning of the 30th of November, a sail was descried doubling

Cape Disappointment. It came to anchor in Baker's Bay, and proved to be a
ship of war. Of what nation? was now the anxious inquiry. If English, why
did it come alone? where was the merchant vessel that was to have
accompanied it? If American, what was to become of the newly acquired
possession of the Northwest Company?

In this dilemma, M'Tavish, in all haste, loaded two barges with all the
packages of furs bearing the mark of the Northwest Company, and made
off for Tongue Point, three miles up the river. There he was to await a
preconcerted signal from M'Dougal, on ascertaining the character of the
ship. If it should prove American, M'Tavish would have a fair start, and
could bear off his rich cargo to the interior. It is singular that this prompt
mode of conveying valuable, but easily transportable effects beyond the
CHAPTER LX. 403

reach of a hostile ship should not have suggested itself while the property
belonged to Mr. Astor.

In the meantime, M'Dougal, who still remained nominal chief at the fort,
launched a canoe, manned by men recently in the employ of the American
Fur Company, and steered for the ship. On the way, he instructed his men
to pass themselves for Americans or Englishmen, according to the
exigencies of the case.

The vessel proved to be the British sloop of war Raccoon, of twenty−six

guns, and one hundred and twenty men, commanded by Captain Black.
According to the account of that officer, the frigate Phoebe, and two sloops
of war Cherub and Raccoon, had sailed in convoy of the Isaac Todd from
Rio Janeiro. On board of the Phoebe, Mr. John M'Donald, a partner of the
Northwest Company, embarked as passenger, to profit by the anticipated
catastrophe at Astoria. The convoy was separated by stress of weather off
Cape Horn. The three ships of war came together again at the island of Juan
Fernandez, their appointed rendezvous, but waited in vain for the Isaac
Todd.

In the meantime, intelligence was received of the mischief that Commodore

Porter was doing among the British whale ships. Commodore Hillyer
immediately set sail in quest of him with the Phoebe and the Cherub,
transferring Mr. M'Donald to the Raccoon, and ordered that vessel to
proceed to the Columbia.

The officers of the Raccoon were in high spirits. The agents of the
Northwest Company, in instigating the expedition, had talked of immense
booty to be made by the fortunate captors of Astoria. Mr. M'Donald had
kept up the excitement during the voyage, so that not a midshipman but
revelled in dreams of ample prize− money, nor a lieutenant that would have
sold his chance for a thousand pounds. Their disappointment, therefore,
may easily be conceived, when they learned that their warlike attack upon
Astoria had been forestalled by a snug commercial arrangement; that their
anticipated booty had become British property in the regular course of
traffic, and that all this had been effected by the very Company which had
CHAPTER LX. 404

been instrumental in getting them sent on what they now stigmatized as a

fool's errand. They felt as if they had been duped and made tools of, by a
set of shrewd men of traffic, who had employed them to crack the nut,
while they carried off the kernel. In a word, M'Dougal found himself so
ungraciously received by his countrymen on board of the ship, that he was
glad to cut short his visit, and return to shore. He was busy at the fort,
making preparations for the reception of the captain of the Raccoon, when
his one−eyed Indian father−in− law made his appearance, with a train of
Chinook warriors, all painted and equipped in warlike style.

Old Comcomly had beheld, with dismay, the arrival of a "big war canoe"
displaying the British flag. The shrewd old savage had become something
of a politician in the course of his daily visits at the fort. He knew of the
war existing between the nations, but knew nothing of the arrangement
between M'Dougal and M'Tavish. He trembled, therefore, for the power of
his white son− in−law, and the new−fledged grandeur of his daughter, and
assembled his warriors in all haste. "King George," said he, "has sent his
great canoe to destroy the fort, and make slaves of all the inhabitants. Shall
we suffer it? The Americans are the first white men that have fixed
themselves in the land. They have treated us like brothers. Their great chief
has taken my daughter to be his squaw: we are, therefore, as one people."

His warriors all determined to stand by the Americans to the last, and to
this effect they came painted and armed for battle. Comcomly made a
spirited war−speech to his son−in−law. He offered to kill every one of King
George's men that should attempt to land. It was an easy matter. The ship
could not approach within six miles of the fort; the crew could only land in
boats. The woods reached to the water's edge; in these, he and his warriors
would conceal themselves, and shoot down the enemy as fast as they put
foot on shore.

M'Dougal was, doubtless, properly sensible of this parental devotion on the

part of his savage father−in−law, and perhaps a little rebuked by the game
spirit, so opposite to his own. He assured Comcomly, however, that his
solicitude for the safety of himself and the princess was superfluous; as,
though the ship belonged to King George, her crew would not injure the
CHAPTER LX. 405

Americans, or their Indian allies. He advised him and his warriors,

therefore, to lay aside their weapons and war shirts, wash off the paint from
their faces and bodies, and appear like clean and civil savages, to receive
the strangers courteously.

Comcomly was sorely puzzled at this advice, which accorded so little with
his Indian notions of receiving a hostile nation, and it was only after
repeated and positive assurances of the amicable intentions of the strangers
that he was induced to lower his fighting tone. He said something to his
warriors explanatory of this singular posture of affairs, and in vindication,
perhaps, of the pacific temper of his son−in−law. They all gave a shrug and
an Indian grunt of acquiescence, and went off sulkily to their village, to lay
aside their weapons for the present.

The proper arrangements being made for the reception of Captain Black,
that officer caused his ship's boats to be manned, and landed with befitting
state at Astoria. From the talk that had been made by the Northwest
Company of the strength of the place, and the armament they had required
to assist in its reduction, he expected to find a fortress of some importance.
When he beheld nothing but stockades and bastions, calculated for defense
against naked savages, he felt an emotion of indignant surprise, mingled
with something of the ludicrous. "Is this the fort," cried he, "about which I
have heard so much talking? D−n me, but I'd batter it down in two hours
with a four pounder!"

When he learned, however, the amount of rich furs that had been passed
into the hands of the Northwesters, he was outrageous, and insisted that an
inventory should be taken of all the property purchased of the Americans,
"with a view to ulterior measures in England, for the recovery of the value
from the Northwest Company."

As he grew cool, however, he gave over all idea of preferring such a claim,
and reconciled himself, as well as he could, to the idea of having been
forestalled by his bargaining coadjutors.
CHAPTER LXI. 406

On the 12th of December, the fate of Astoria was consummated by a

regular ceremonial. Captain Black, attended by his officers, entered the fort,
caused the British standard to be erected, broke a bottle of wine and
declared, in a loud voice, that he took possession of the establishment and
of the country, in the name of his Britannic Majesty, changing the name of
Astoria to that of Fort George.

The Indian warriors, who had offered their services to repel the strangers,
were present on this occasion. It was explained to them as being a friendly
arrangement and transfer, but they shook their heads grimly, and
considered it an act of subjugation of their ancient allies. They regretted
that they had complied with M'Dougal's wishes, in laying aside their arms,
and remarked, that, however the Americans might conceal the fact, they
were undoubtedly all slaves; nor could they be persuaded of the contrary,
until they beheld the Raccoon depart without taking away any prisoners.

As to Comcomly, he no longer prided himself upon his white son− in−law,

but, whenever he was asked about him, shook his head, and replied, that his
daughter had made a mistake, and, instead of getting a great warrior for a
husband, had married herself to a squaw.

CHAPTER LXI.

Arrival of the Brig Pedler at Astoria.− Breaking Up of the Establishment

.−Departure of Several of the Company. − Tragical Story Told by the
Squaw of Pierre Dorion.− Fate of Reed and His Companions. − Attempts of
Mr. Astor to Renew His Enterprise.− Disappointment. − Concluding
Observations and Reflection.

HAVING given the catastrophe at the Fort of Astoria, it remains now but to
gather up a few loose ends of this widely excursive narrative and conclude.
On the 28th of February the brig Pedler anchored in Columbia River. It will
be recollected that Mr. Hunt had purchased this vessel at the Sandwich
Islands, to take off the furs collected at the factory, and to restore the
Sandwich Islanders to their homes. When that gentleman learned, however,
CHAPTER LXI. 407

the precipitate and summary manner in which the property had been
bargained away by M'Dougal, he expressed his indignation in the strongest
terms, and determined to make an effort to get back the furs. As soon as his
wishes were known in this respect, M'Dougal came to sound him on behalf
of the Northwest Company, intimating that he had no doubt the peltries
might be repurchased at an advance of fifty per cent. This overture was not
calculated to soothe the angry feelings of Mr. Hunt, and his indignation was
complete, when he discovered that M'Dougal had become a partner of the
Northwest Company, and had actually been so since the 23d of December.
He had kept his partnership a secret, however; had retained the papers of
the Pacific Fur Company in his possession; and had continued to act as Mr.
Astor's agent, though two of the partners of the other company, Mr.
M'Kenzie and Mr. Clarke, were present. He had, moreover, divulged to his
new associates all that he knew as to Mr. Astor's plans and affairs, and had
made copies of his business letters for their perusal.

Mr. Hunt now considered the whole conduct of M'Dougal hollow and
collusive. His only thought was, therefore, to get all the papers of the
concern out of his hands, and bring the business to a close; for the interests
of Mr. Astor were yet completely at stake; the drafts of the Northwest
Company in his favor, for the purchase money, not having yet been
obtained. With some difficulty he succeeded in getting possession of the
papers. The bills or drafts were delivered without hesitation. The latter he
remitted to Mr. Astor by some of his associates, who were about to cross
the continent to New York. This done, he embarked on board the Pedler, on
the 3d of April, accompanied by two of the clerks, Mr. Seton and Mr.
Halsey, and bade a final adieu to Astoria.

The next day, April 4th, Messrs. Clarke, M'Kenzie, David Stuart, and such
of the Astorians as had not entered into the service of the Northwest
Company, set out to cross the Rocky Mountains. It is not our intention to
take the reader another journey across those rugged barriers; but we will
step forward with the travellers to a distance on their way, merely to relate
their interview with a character already noted in this work.
CHAPTER LXI. 408

As the party were proceeding up the Columbia, near the mouth of the
Wallah−Wallah River, several Indian canoes put off from the shore to
overtake them, and a voice called upon them in French and requested them
to stop. They accordingly put to shore, and were joined by those in the
canoes. To their surprise, they recognized in the person who had hailed
them the Indian wife of Pierre Dorion, accompanied by her two children.
She had a story to tell, involving the fate of several of our unfortunate
adventurers.

Mr. John Reed, the Hibernian, it will be remembered, had been detached
during the summer to the Snake River. His party consisted of four
Canadians, Giles Le Clerc, Francois Landry, Jean Baptiste Turcot, and
Andre La Chapelle, together with two hunters, Pierre Dorion and Pierre
Delaunay; Dorion, as usual, being accompanied by his wife and children.
The objects of this expedition were twofold: to trap beaver, and to search
for the three hunters, Robinson, Hoback, and Rezner.

In the course of the autumn, Reed lost one man, Landry, by death; another
one, Pierre Delaunay, who was of a sullen, perverse disposition, left him in
a moody fit, and was never heard of afterwards. The number of his party
was not, however, reduced by these losses, as the three hunters, Robinson,
Hoback, and Rezner, had joined it.

Reed now built a house on the Snake River, for their winter quarters; which
being completed, the party set about trapping. Rezner, Le Clerc, and Pierre
Dorion went about five days' journey from the wintering house, to a part of
the country well stocked with beaver. Here they put up a hut, and
proceeded to trap with great success. While the men were out hunting,
Pierre Dorion's wife remained at home to dress the skins and prepare the
meals. She was thus employed one evening about the beginning of January,
cooking the supper of the hunters, when she heard footsteps, and Le Clerc
staggered, pale and bleeding, into the hut. He informed her that a party of
savages had surprised them, while at their traps, and had killed Rezner and
her husband. He had barely strength left to give this information, when he
sank upon the ground.
CHAPTER LXI. 409

The poor woman saw that the only chance for life was instant flight, but, in
this exigency, showed that presence of mind and force of character for
which she had frequently been noted. With great difficulty, she caught two
of the horses belonging to the party. Then collecting her clothes and a small
quantity of beaver meat and dried salmon, she packed them upon one of the
horses, and helped the wounded man to mount upon it. On the other horse
she mounted with her two children, and hurried away from this dangerous
neighborhood, directing her flight to Mr. Reed's establishment. On the third
day, she descried a number of Indians on horseback proceeding in an
easterly direction. She immediately dismounted with her children, and
helped LeClerc likewise to dismount, and all concealed themselves.
Fortunately they escaped the sharp eyes of the savages, but had to proceed
with the utmost caution. That night they slept without fire or water; she
managed to keep her children warm in her arms; but before morning, poor
Le Clerc died.

With the dawn of day the resolute woman resumed her course, and, on the
fourth day, reached the house of Mr. Reed. It was deserted, and all round
were marks of blood and signs of a furious massacre. Not doubting that Mr.
Reed and his party had all fallen victims, she turned in fresh horror from
the spot. For two days she continued hurrying forward, ready to sink for
want of food, but more solicitous about her children than herself. At length
she reached a range of the Rocky Mountains, near the upper part of the
Wallah−Wallah River. Here she chose a wild lonely ravine, as her place of
winter refuge.

She had fortunately a buffalo robe and three deer−skins; of these, and of
pine bark and cedar branches, she constructed a rude wigwam, which she
pitched beside a mountain spring. Having no other food, she killed the two
horses, and smoked their flesh. The skins aided to cover her hut. Here she
dragged out the winter, with no other company than her two children.
Towards the middle of March her provisions were nearly exhausted. She
therefore packed up the remainder, slung it on her back, and, with her
helpless little ones, set out again on her wanderings. Crossing the ridge of
mountains, she descended to the banks of the Wallah−Wallah, and kept
along them until she arrived where that river throws itself into the
CHAPTER LXI. 410

Columbia. She was hospitably received and entertained by the

Wallah−Wallahs, and had been nearly two weeks among them when the
two canoes passed.

On being interrogated, she could assign no reason for this murderous attack
of the savages; it appeared to be perfectly wanton and unprovoked. Some of
the Astorians supposed it an act of butchery by a roving band of Blackfeet;
others, however, and with greater probability of correctness, have ascribed
it to the tribe of Pierced−nose Indians, in revenge for the death of their
comrade hanged by order of Mr. Clarke. If so, it shows that these sudden
and apparently wanton outbreakings of sanguinary violence on the part of
the savages have often some previous, though perhaps remote, provocation.

The narrative of the Indian woman closes the checkered adventures of some
of the personages of this motley story; such as the honest Hibernian Reed,
and Dorion the hybrid interpreter. Turcot and La Chapelle were two of the
men who fell off from Mr. Crooks in the course of his wintry journey, and
had subsequently such disastrous times among the Indians. We cannot but
feel some sympathy with that persevering trio of Kentuckians, Robinson,
Rezner, and Hoback, who twice turned back when on their way homeward,
and lingered in the wilderness to perish by the hands of savages.

The return parties from Astoria, both by sea and land, experienced on the
way as many adventures, vicissitudes, and mishaps, as the far−famed
heroes of the Odyssey; they reached their destination at different times,
bearing tidings to Mr. Astor of the unfortunate termination of his enterprise.

That gentleman, however, was not disposed, even yet, to give the matter up
as lost. On the contrary, his spirit was roused by what he considered
ungenerous and unmerited conduct on the part of the Northwest Company.
"After their treatment of me," said he, in a letter to Mr. Hunt, "I have no
idea of remaining quiet and idle." He determined, therefore, as soon as
circumstances would permit, to resume his enterprise.

At the return of peace, Astoria, with the adjacent country, reverted to the
United States by the treaty of Ghent, on the principle of status ante bellum,
CHAPTER LXI. 411

and Captain Biddle was despatched in the sloop of war, Ontario, to take
formal possession.

In the winter of 1815, a law was passed by Congress prohibiting all traffic
of British traders within the territories of the United States.

The favorable moment seemed now to Mr. Astor to have arrived for the
revival of his favorite enterprise, but new difficulties had grown up to
impede it. The Northwest Company were now in complete occupation of
the Columbia River, and its chief tributary streams, holding the posts which
he had established, and carrying on a trade throughout the neighboring
region, in defiance of the prohibitory law of Congress, which, in effect, was
a dead letter beyond the mountains.

To dispossess them would be an undertaking of almost a belligerent nature;

for their agents and retainers were well armed, and skilled in the use of
weapons, as is usual with Indian traders. The ferocious and bloody contests
which had taken place between the rival trading parties of the Northwest
and Hudson's Bay Companies had shown what might be expected from
commercial feuds in the lawless depths of the wilderness. Mr. Astor did not
think it advisable, therefore, to attempt the matter without the protection of
the American flag; under which his people might rally in case of need. He
accordingly made an informal overture to the President of the United
States, Mr. Madison, through Mr. Gallatin, offering to renew his enterprise,
and to reestablish Astoria, provided it would be protected by the American
flag, and made a military post; stating that the whole force required would
not exceed a lieutenant's command.

The application, approved and recommended by Mr. Gallatin, one of the

most enlightened statesmen of our country, was favorably received, but no
step was taken in consequence; the President not being disposed, in all
probability, to commit himself by any direct countenance or overt act.
Discouraged by this supineness on the part of the government, Mr. Astor
did not think fit to renew his overtures in a more formal manner, and the
favorable moment for the re−occupation of Astoria was suffered to pass
unimproved.
CHAPTER LXI. 412

The British trading establishments were thus enabled, without molestation,

to strike deep their roots, and extend their ramifications, in despite of the
prohibition of Congress, until they had spread themselves over the rich
field of enterprise opened by Mr. Astor. The British government soon
began to perceive the importance of this region, and to desire to include it
within their territorial domains. A question has consequently risen as to the
right to the soil, and has become one of the most perplexing now open
between the United States and Great Britain. In the first treaty relative to it,
under date of October 20th, 1818, the question was left unsettled, and it
was agreed that the country on the northwest coast of America, westward of
the Rocky Mountains, claimed by either nation, should be open to the
inhabitants of both for ten years, for the purpose of trade, with the equal
right of navigating all its rivers. When these ten years had expired, a
subsequent treaty, in 1828, extended the arrangement to ten additional
years. So the matter stands at present.

On casting back our eyes over the series of events we have recorded, we
see no reason to attribute the failure of this great commercial undertaking to
any fault in the scheme, or omission in the execution of it, on the part of the
projector. It was a magnificent enterprise; well concerted and carried on,
without regard to difficulties or expense. A succession of adverse
circumstances and cross purposes, however, beset it almost from the outset;
some of them, in fact, arising from neglect of the orders and instructions of
Mr. Astor. The first crippling blow was the loss of the Tonquin, which
clearly would not have happened, had Mr. Astor's earnest injunctions with
regard to the natives been attended to. Had this ship performed her voyage
prosperously, and revisited Astoria in due time, the trade of the
establishment would have taken its preconcerted course, and the spirits of
all concerned been kept up by a confident prospect of success. Her dismal
catastrophe struck a chill into every heart, and prepared the way for
subsequent despondency.

Another cause of embarrassment and loss was the departure from the plan
of Mr. Astor, as to the voyage of the Beaver, subsequent to her visiting
Astoria. The variation from this plan produced a series of cross purposes,
disastrous to the establishment, and detained Mr. Hunt absent from his post,
CHAPTER LXI. 413

when his presence there was of vital importance to the enterprise; so

essential is it for an agent, in any great and complicated undertaking, to
execute faithfully, and to the letter, the part marked out for him by the
master mind which has concerted the whole.

The breaking out of the war between the United States and Great Britain
multiplied the hazards and embarrassments of the enterprise. The
disappointment as to convoy rendered it difficult to keep up reinforcements
and supplies; and the loss of the Lark added to the tissue of misadventures.

That Mr. Astor battled resolutely against every difficulty, and pursued his
course in defiance of every loss, has been sufficiently shown. Had he been
seconded by suitable agents, and properly protected by government, the
ultimate failure of his plan might yet have been averted. It was his great
misfortune that his agents were not imbued with his own spirit. Some had
not capacity sufficient to comprehend the real nature and extent of his
scheme; others were alien in feeling and interest, and had been brought up
in the service of a rival company. Whatever sympathies they might
originally have had with him, were impaired, if not destroyed, by the war.
They looked upon his cause as desperate, and only considered how they
might make interest to regain a situation under their former employers. The
absence of Mr. Hunt, the only real representative of Mr. Astor, at the time
of the capitulation with the Northwest Company, completed the series of
cross purposes. Had that gentleman been present, the transfer, in all
probability, would not have taken place.

It is painful, at all times, to see a grand and beneficial stroke of genius fall
of its aim: but we regret the failure of this enterprise in a national point of
view; for, had it been crowned with success, it would have redounded
greatly to the advantage and extension of our commerce. The profits drawn
from the country in question by the British Fur Company, though of ample
amount, form no criterion by which to judge of the advantages that would
have arisen had it been entirely in the hands of the citizens of the United
States. That company, as has been shown, is limited in the nature and scope
of its operations, and can make but little use of the maritime facilities held
out by an emporium and a harbor on that coast. In our hands, besides the
CHAPTER LXI. 414

roving bands of trappers and traders, the country would have been explored
and settled by industrious husbandmen; and the fertile valleys bordering its
rivers, and shut up among its mountains, would have been made to pour
forth their agricultural treasures to contribute to the general wealth.

In respect to commerce, we should have had a line of trading posts from the
Mississippi and the Missouri across the Rocky Mountains, forming a high
road from the great regions of the west to the shores of the Pacific. We
should have had a fortified post and port at the mouth of the Columbia,
commanding the trade of that river and its tributaries, and of a wide extent
of country and sea−coast; carrying on an active and profitable commerce
with the Sandwich Islands, and a direct and frequent communication with
China. In a word, Astoria might have realized the anticipations of Mr.
Astor, so well understood and appreciated by Mr. Jefferson, in gradually
becoming a commercial empire beyond the mountains, peopled by "free
and independent Americans, and linked with us by ties of blood and
interest."

We repeat, therefore, our sincere regret that our government should have
neglected the overture of Mr. Astor, and suffered the moment to pass by,
when full possession of this region might have been taken quietly, as a
matter of course, and a military post established, without dispute, at
Astoria. Our statesmen have become sensible, when too late, of the
importance of this measure. Bills have repeatedly been brought into
Congress for the purpose, but without success; and our rightful possessions
on that coast, as well as our trade on the Pacific, have no rallying point
protected by the national flag, and by a military force.

In the meantime, the second period of ten years is fast elapsing. In 1838,
the question of title will again come up, and most probably, in the present
amicable state of our relations with Great Britain, will be again postponed.
Every year, however, the litigated claim is growing in importance. There is
no pride so jealous and irritable as the pride of territory. As one wave of
emigration after another rolls into the vast regions of the west, and our
settlements stretch towards the Rocky Mountains, the eager eyes of our
pioneers will pry beyond, and they will become impatient of any barrier or
CHAPTER LXI. 415

impediment in the way of what they consider a grand outlet of our empire.
Should any circumstance, therefore, unfortunately occur to disturb the
present harmony of the two nations, this ill−adjusted question, which now
lies dormant, may suddenly start up into one of belligerent import, and
Astoria become the watchword in a contest for dominion on the shores of
the Pacific.

Since the above was written, the question of dominion over the vast
territory beyond the Rocky Mountains, which for a time threatened to
disturb the peaceful relations with our transatlantic kindred, has been
finally settled in a spirit of mutual concession, and the venerable projector
whose early enterprise forms the subject of this work had the satisfaction of
knowing, ere his eyes closed upon the world, that the flag of his country
again waved over "ASTORIA."

APPENDIX

Draught of a Petition to Congress, sent by Mr. Astor in 1812.

To the honorable the Senate and House of Representatives of the United

States, in Congress assembled,

The petition of the American Fur Company respectfully showeth:

THAT the trade with the several Indian tribes of North America has, for
many years past, been almost exclusively carried on by the merchants of
Canada; who, having formed powerful and extensive associations for that
purpose, being aided by British capital, and being encouraged by the favor
and protection of the British government, could not be opposed, with any
prospect of success by individuals of the United States.

That by means of the above trade, thus systematically pursued, not only the
inhabitants of the United States have been deprived of commercial profits
and advantages, to which they appear to have just and natural pretensions,
but a great and dangerous influence has been established over the Indian
tribes, difficult to be counteracted, and capable of being exerted at critical
CHAPTER LXI. 416

periods, to the great injury and annoyance of our frontier settlements.

That in order to obtain at least a part of the above trade, and more
particularly that which is within the boundaries of the United States, your
petitioners, in the year 1808, obtained an act of incorporation from the State
of New York, whereby they are enabled, with a competent capital, to carry
on the said trade with the Indians in such a manner as may be conformable
to the laws and regulations of the United States, in relation to such a
commerce.

That the capital mentioned in the said act, amounting to one million of
dollars, having been duly formed, your petitioners entered with zeal and
alacrity into those large and important arrangements, which were necessary
for, or conducive to the object of their incorporation; and, among other
things, purchased a great part of the stock in trade, and trading
establishments, of the Michilimackinac Company of Canada. Your
petitioners also, with the expectation of great public and private advantages
from the use of the said establishments, ordered, during the spring and
summer of 1810, an assortment of goods from England, suitable for the
Indian trade; which, in consequence of the President's proclamation of
November of that year, were shipped to Canada instead of New York, and
have been transported, under a very heavy expense, into the interior of the
country. But as they could not legally be brought into the Indian country
within the boundaries of the United States, they have been stored on the
Island of St. Joseph, in Lake Huron, where they now remain.

Your petitioners, with great deference and implicit submission to the

wisdom of the national legislature, beg leave to suggest for consideration,
whether they have not some claim to national attention and encouragement,
from the nature and importance of their undertaking; which though
hazardous and uncertain as concerns their private emolument, must, at any
rate, redound to the public security and advantage. If their undertaking shall
appear to be of the description given, they would further suggest to your
honorable bodies, that unless they can procure a regular supply for the trade
in which they are engaged, it may languish, and be finally abandoned by
American citizens; when it will revert to its former channel, with
CHAPTER LXI. 417

additional, and perhaps with irresistible, power.

Under these circumstances, and upon all those considerations of public

policy which will present themselves to your honorable bodies, in
connection with those already mentioned, your petitioners respectfully pray
that a law may be passed to enable the President, or any of the heads of
departments acting under his authority, to grant permits for the introduction
of goods necessary for the supply of the Indians, into the Indian country
that is within the boundaries of the United States, under such regulations,
and with such restrictions, as may secure the public revenue and promote
the public welfare.

And your petitioners shall ever pray, &c.

In witness whereof, the common seal of the American Fur Company is

hereunto affixed, the day of March, 1812.

By order of the Corporation.

AN ACT to enable the American Fur Company, and other citizens, to

introduce goods necessary for the Indian trade into the territories within the
boundaries of the United State.

WHEREAS, the public peace and welfare require that the native Indian
tribes, residing within the boundaries of the United States, should receive
their necessary supplies under the authority and from the citizens of the
United States: Therefore, be it enacted by the Senate and House of
Representatives of the United States, in Congress assembled, that it shall be
lawful for the President of the United States, or any of the heads of
departments thereunto by him duly authorized, from time to time to grant
permits to the American Fur Company, their agents or factors, or any other
citizens of the United States engaged in the Indian trade, to introduce into
the Indian country, within the boundaries of the United States, such goods,
wares, and merchandise, as may be necessary for the said trade, under such
regulations and restrictions as the said President or heads of departments
CHAPTER LXI. 418

may judge proper; any law or regulation to the contrary, in anywise,

notwithstanding.

Letter from Mr. Gallatin to Mr. Astor, dated

New York, August 5, 1835.

DEAR SIR, − In compliance with your request, I will state such facts as I
recollect touching the subjects mentioned in your letter of 28th ult. I may
be mistaken respecting dates and details, and will only relate general facts,
which I well remember.

In conformity with the treaty of 1794 with Great Britain, the citizens and
subjects of each country were permitted to trade with the Indians residing
in the territories of the other party. The reciprocity was altogether nominal.
Since the conquest of Canada, the British had inherited from the French the
whole fur trade, through the great lakes and their communications, with all
the western Indians, whether residing in the British dominions or the
United States. They kept the important western posts on those lakes till
about the year 1797. And the defensive Indian war, which the United States
had to sustain from 1776 to 1795, had still more alienated the Indians, and
secured to the British their exclusive trade, carried through the lakes,
wherever the Indians in that quarter lived. No American could, without
imminent danger of property and life, carry on that trade, even within the
United States, by the way of either Michilimackinac or St. Mary's. And
independent of the loss of commerce, Great Britain was enabled to preserve
a most dangerous influence over our Indians.

It was under these circumstances that you communicated to our

government the prospect you had to be able, and your intention, to purchase
one half of the interest of the Canadian Fur Company, engaged in trade by
the way of Michilimackinac with our own Indians. You wished to know
whether the plan met with the approbation of government, and how far you
could rely on its protection and encouragement. This overture was received
with great satisfaction by the administration, and Mr. Jefferson, then
President, wrote you to that effect. I was also directed, as Secretary of the
CHAPTER LXI. 419

Treasury, to write to you an official letter to the same purpose. On

investigating the subject, it was found that the Executive had no authority
to give you any direct aid; and I believe you received nothing more than an
entire approbation of your plan, and general assurances of the protection
due to every citizen engaged in lawful and useful pursuits.

You did effect the contemplated purchase, but in what year I do not
recollect. Immediately before the war, you represented that a large quantity
of merchandise, intended for the Indian trade, and including arms and
munitions of war, belonging to that concern of which you owned one half,
was deposited at a post on Lake Huron, within the British dominions; that,
in order to prevent their ultimately falling into the hands of Indians who
might prove hostile, you were desirous to try to have them conveyed into
the United States; but that you were prevented by the then existing law of
non−intercourse with the British dominions.

The Executive could not annul the provisions of that law. But I was
directed to instruct the collectors on the lakes, in case you and your agents
should voluntarily bring in and deliver to them any part of the goods above
mentioned, to receive and keep them in their guard, and not to commence
prosecutions until further instructions: the intention being then to apply to
Congress for an act remitting the forfeiture and penalties. I wrote
accordingly, to that effect, to the collectors of Detroit and Michilimackinac.

The attempt to obtain the goods did not, however, succeed; and I cannot say
how far the failure injured you. But the war proved fatal to another much
more extensive and important enterprise.

Previous to that time, but I also forget the year, you had undertaken to carry
on a trade on your own account, though I believe under the New York
charter of the American Fur Company, with the Indians west of the Rocky
Mountains. This project was also communicated to government, and met,
of course, with its full approbation, and best wishes, for your success. You
carried it on, on the most extensive scale, sending several ships to the
mouth of the Columbia River, and a large party by land across the
mountains, and finally founding the establishment of Astoria.
CHAPTER LXI. 420

This unfortunately fell into the hands of the enemy during the war, from
circumstances with which I am but imperfectly acquainted − being then
absent on a foreign mission. I returned in September, 1815, and sailed again
on a mission to France in June, 1816. During that period I visited
Washington twice − in October or November, 1815, and in March, 1816.
On one of these occasions, and I believe on the last, you mentioned to me
that you were disposed once more to renew the attempt, and to reestablish
Astoria, provided you had the protection of the American flag; for which
purpose, a lieutenant's command would be sufficient to you. You requested
me to mention this to the President, which I did. Mr. Madison said he
would consider the subject, and, although he did not commit himself, I
thought that he received the proposal favorably. The message was verbal,
and I do not know whether the application was ever renewed in a more
formal manner. I sailed soon after for Europe, and was seven years absent. I
never had the pleasure, since 1816, to see Mr. Madison, and never heard
again anything concerning the subject in question.

I remain, dear sir, most respectfully, Your obedient servant,

ALBERT GALLATIN.

John Jacob Astor, Esq., New York.

Notices of the Present State of the Fur Trade, chiefly extracted from an
article published in Silliman's Magazine for January, 1834.

THE Northwest Company did not long enjoy the sway they had acquired
over the trading regions of the Columbia. A competition, ruinous in its
expenses, which had long existed between them and the Hudson's Bay
Company, ended in their downfall and the ruin of most of the partners. The
relict of the company became merged in the rival association, and the
whole business was conducted under the name of the Hudson's Bay
Company.

This coalition took place in 1821. They then abandoned Astoria, and built a
large establishment sixty miles up the river, on the right bank, which they
CHAPTER LXI. 421

called Fort Vancouver. This was in a neighborhood where provisions could

be more readily procured, and where there was less danger from
molestation by any naval force. The company are said to carry on an active
and prosperous trade, and to give great encouragement to settlers. They are
extremely jealous, however, of any interference or participation in their
trade, and monopolize it from the coast of the Pacific to the mountains, and
for a considerable extent north and south. The American traders and
trappers who venture across the mountains, instead of enjoying the
participation in the trade of the river and its tributaries, that had been
stipulated by treaty, are obliged to keep to the south, out of the track of the
Hudson's Bay parties.

Mr. Astor has withdrawn entirely from the American Fur Company, as he
has, in fact, from active business of every kind. That company is now
headed by Mr. Ramsay Crooks; its principal establishment is at
Michilimackinac, and it receives its furs from the posts depending on that
station, and from those on the Mississippi, Missouri, and Yellow Stone
Rivers, and the great range of country extending thence to the Rocky
Mountains. This company has steamboats in its employ, with which it
ascends the rivers, and penetrates to a vast distance into the bosom of those
regions formerly so painfully explored in keel−boats and barges, or by
weary parties on horseback and on foot. The first irruption of steamboats in
the heart of these vast wildernesses is said to have caused the utmost
astonishment and affright among their savage inhabitants.

In addition to the main companies already mentioned, minor associations

have been formed, which push their way in the most intrepid manner to the
remote parts of the far West, and beyond the mountain barriers. One of the
most noted of these is Ashley's company, from St. Louis, who trap for
themselves, and drive an extensive trade with the Indians. The spirit,
enterprise, and hardihood of Ashley are themes of the highest eulogy in the
far West, and his adventures and exploits furnish abundance of frontier
stories.

Another company of one hundred and fifty persons from New York,
formed in 1831, and headed by Captain Bonneville of the United States
CHAPTER LXI. 422

army, has pushed its enterprise into tracts before but little known, and has
brought considerable quantities of furs from the region between the Rocky
Mountains and the coasts of Monterey and Upper California, on the
Buenaventura and Timpanogos rivers.

The fur countries, from the Pacific, east to the Rocky Mountains, are now
occupied (exclusive of private combinations and individual trappers and
traders) by the Russians; and on the northwest from Behring's Strait to
Queen Charlotte's Island, in north latitude fifty−three degrees, and by the
Hudson's Bay Company thence, south of the Columbia River; while
Ashley's company, and that under Captain Bonneville, take the remainder
of the region to California. Indeed, the whole compass from the Mississippi
to the Pacific Ocean is traversed in every direction. The mountains and
forests, from the Arctic Sea to the Gulf of Mexico, are threaded through
every maze, by the hunter. Every river and tributary stream, from the
Columbia to the mouth of the Rio del Norte, and from the M'Kenzie to the
Colorado of the West, from their head springs to their junction, are
searched and trapped for beaver. Almost all the American furs, which do
not belong to the Hudson's Bay Company, find their way to New York, and
are either distributed thence for home consumption, or sent to foreign
markets.

The Hudson's Bay Company ship their furs from their factories of York
Fort and from Moose River, on Hudson's Bay; their collection from Grand
River, &c., they ship from Canada; and the collection from Columbia goes
to London. None of their furs come to the United States, except through the
London market.

The export trade of furs from the United States is chiefly to London. Some
quantities have been sent to Canton, and some few to Hamburg; and an
increasing export trade in beaver, otter, nutria, and vicunia wool, prepared
for the hatter's use, is carried on in Mexico. Some furs are exported from
Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Boston; but the principal shipments from the
United States are from New York to London, from whence they are sent to
Leipsic, a well−known mart for furs, where they are disposed of during the
great fair in that city, and distributed to every part of the continent.
CHAPTER LXI. 423

The United States import from South America, nutria, vicunia, chinchilla,
and a few deer−skins; also fur seals from the Lobos Islands, off the river
Plate. A quantity of beaver, otter, &c., are brought annually from Santa Fe.
Dressed furs for edgings, linings, caps, muffs, &c., such as squirrel , genet,
fitch−skins, and blue rabbit, are received from the north of Europe; also
cony and hare's fur; but the largest importations are from London, where is
concentrated nearly the whole of the North American fur trade.

Such is the present state of the fur trade, by which it will appear that the
extended sway of the Hudson's Bay Company, and the monopoly of the
region of which Astoria was the key, has operated to turn the main current
of this opulent trade into the coffers of Great Britain , and to render London
the emporium instead of New York, as Mr. Astor had intended.

We will subjoin a few observations on the animals sought after in this

traffic, extracted from the same intelligent source with the preceding
remarks.

Of the fur−bearing animals, "the precious ermine," so called by way of

preeminence, is found, of the best quality, only in the cold regions of
Europe and Asia. * Its fur is of the most perfect whiteness, except the tip of
its tail, which is of a brilliant shining black. With these back tips tacked on
the skins, they are beautifully spotted, producing an effect often imitated,
but never equalled in other furs. The ermine is of the genus mustela
(weasel), and resembles the common weasel in its form, is from fourteen to
sixteen inches from the tip of the nose to the end of the tail. The body is
from ten to twelve inches long. It lives in hollow trees, river banks, and
especially in beech forests; preys on small birds, is very shy, sleeping
during the day, and employing the night in search of food. The fur of the
older animals is preferred to the younger. It is taken by snares and traps,
and sometimes shot with blunt arrows. Attempts have been made to
domesticate it; but it is extremely wild and has been found untameable.

The sable can scarcely be called second to the ermine. It is a native of

Northern Europe and Siberia, and is also of the genus mustela. In
Samoieda, Yakutsk, Kamtschatka, and Russian Lapland, it is found of the
CHAPTER LXI. 424

richest quality, and darkest color. In its habits, it resembles the ermine. It
preys on small squirrels and birds, sleeps by day, and prowls for food
during the night. It is so like the marten in every particular except its size,
and the dark shade of its color, that naturalists have not decided whether it
is the richest and finest of the marten tribe, or a variety of that species: It
varies in dimensions from eighteen to twenty inches.

The rich dark shades of the sable, and the snowy whiteness of the ermine,
the great depth, and the peculiar, almost flowing softness of their skins and
fur, have combined to gain them a preference in all countries, and in all
ages of the world. In this age, they maintain the same relative estimate in
regard to other furs, as when they marked the rank of the proud crusader,
and were emblazoned in heraldry: but in most European nations, they are
now worn promiscuously by the opulent.

The martens from Northern Asia and the Mountains of Kamtschatka are
much superior to the American, though in every pack of American marten
skins there are a certain number which are beautifully shaded, and of a dark
brown olive color, of great depth and richness.

Next these in value, for ornament and utility, are the sea−otter, the mink,
and the fiery fox.

The fiery fox is the bright red of Asia; is more brilliantly colored and of
finer fur than any other of the genus. It is highly valued for the splendor of
its red color and the fineness of its fur. It is the standard of value on the
northeastern coast of Asia.

The sea−otter which was first introduced into commerce in 1725, from the
Aleutian and Kurile Islands, is an exceedingly fine, soft, close fur, jet black
in winter, with a silken gloss. The fur of the young animal is of a beautiful
brown color. It is met with in great abundance in Behring's Island,
Kamtschatka, Aleutian and Fox Islands, and is also taken on the opposite
coasts of North America. It is sometimes taken with nets, but more
frequently with clubs and spears. Their food is principally lobster and other
shell−fish.
CHAPTER LXI. 425

In 1780 furs had become so scarce in Siberia that the supply was
insufficient for the demand in the Asiatic countries. It was at this time that
the sea−otter was introduced into the markets for China. The skins brought
such incredible prices, as to originate immediately several American and
British expeditions to the northern islands of the Pacific, to Nootka Sound,
and the northwest coast of America; but the Russians already had
possession of the tract which they now hold, and had arranged a trade for
the sea−otter with the Koudek tribes. They do not engross the trade,
however; the American northwest trading ships procure them, all along the
coast, from the Indians.

At one period, the fur seals formed no inconsiderable item in the trade.
South Georgia, in south latitude fifty−five degrees, discovered in 1675, was
explored by Captain Cook in 1771. The Americans immediately
commenced carrying seal skins thence to China, where they obtained the
most exorbitant prices. One million two hundred thousand skins have been
taken from that island alone, and nearly an equal number from the Island of
Desolation, since they were first resorted to for the purpose of commerce.

The discovery of the South Shetlands, sixty−three degrees south latitude, in

1818, added surprisingly to the trade in fur seals. The number taken from
the South Shetlands in 1821 and 1822 amounted to three hundred and
twenty thousand. This valuable animal is now almost extinct in all these
islands, owing to the exterminating system adopted by the hunters. They
are still taken on the Lobos Islands, where the provident government of
Montevideo restrict the fishery, or hunting, within certain limits, which
insures an annual return of the seals. At certain seasons, these amphibia, for
the purpose of renewing their coat, come up on the dark frowning rocks and
precipices, where there is not a trace of vegetation. In the middle of
January, the islands are partially cleared of snow, where a few patches of
short straggling grass spring up in favorable situations; but the seals do not
resort to it for food. They remain on the rocks not less than two months,
without any sustenance, when they return much emaciated to the sea.

Bears of various species and colors, many varieties of the fox, the wolf, the
beaver, the otter, the marten, the raccoon, the badger, the wolverine, the
CHAPTER LXI. 426

mink, the lynx, the muskrat, the woodchuck, the rabbit, the hare, and the
squirrel, are natives of North America.

The beaver, otter, lynx fisher, hare, and raccoon, are used principally for
hats; while the bears of several varieties furnish an excellent material for
sleigh linings, for cavalry caps, and other military equipments. The fur of
the black fox is the most valuable of any of the American varieties; and
next to that the red, which is exported to China and Smyrna. In China, the
red is employed for trimmings, linings, and robes; the latter

being variegated by adding the black fur of the paws, in spots or waves.
There are many other varieties of American fox, such as the gray, the white,
the cross, the silver, and the dun−colored. The silver fox is a rare animal, a
native of the woody country below the falls of the Columbia River. It has a
long, thick, deep lead−colored fur, intermingled with long hairs, invariably
white at the top, forming a bright lustrous silver gray, esteemed by some
more beautiful than any other kind of fox.

The skins of the buffalo, of the Rocky Mountain sheep, of various deer and
of the antelope, are included in the fur trade with the Indians and trappers
of the north and west.

Fox and seal skins are sent from Greenland to Denmark. The white fur of
the arctic fox and polar bear is sometimes found in the packs brought to the
traders by the most northern tribes of Indians, but is not particularly
valuable. The silver−tipped rabbit is peculiar to England, and is sent thence
to Russia and China.

Other furs are employed and valued according to the caprices of fashion, as
well in those countries where they are needed for defenses against the
severity of the seasons, as among the inhabitants of milder climates, who,
severely of Tartar or Sclavonian descent, are said to inherit an attachment
to furred clothing. Such are the inhabitants of Poland, of Southern Russia,
of China, of Persia, of Turkey, and all the nations of Gothic origin in the
middle and western parts of Europe. Under the burning suns of Syria and
Egypt, and the mild climes of Bucharia and Independent Tartary, there is
CHAPTER LXI. 427

also a constant demand, and a great consumption, where there exists no

physical necessity. In our own temperate latitudes, besides their use in the
arts, they are in request for ornament and warmth during the winter, and
large quantities are annually consumed for both purposes in the United
States.

From the foregoing statements, it appears that the fur trade must
henceforward decline. The advanced state of geographical science shows
that no new countries remain to be explored. In North America the animals
are slowly decreasing, from the persevering efforts and the indiscriminate
slaughter practiced by the hunters, and by the appropriation to the uses of
man of those forests and rivers which have afforded them food and
protection. They recede with the aborigines, before the tide of civilization;
but a diminished supply will remain in the mountains and uncultivated
tracts of this and other countries, if the avidity of the hunter can be
restrained within proper limitations.

* An animal called the stoat, a kind of ermine, is said to be found in North

America, but very inferior to the European and Asiatic.

* * The finest fur and the darkest color are most esteemed; and whether the
difference arises from the age of the animal, or from some peculiarity of
location, is not known. They do not vary more from the common marten
than the Arabian horse from the shaggy Canadian.

Height of the Rocky Mountains.

VARIOUS estimates have been made of the height of the Rocky

Mountains, but it is doubtful whether any have, as yet, done justice to their
real altitude, which promises to place them only second to the highest
mountains of the known world. Their height has been diminished to the eye
by the great elevation of the plains from which they rise. They consist,
according to Long, of ridges, knobs, and peaks, variously disposed. The
more elevated parts are covered with perpetual snows, which contribute to
give them a luminous, and, at a great distance, even a brilliant appearance;
whence they derive, among some of the first discoverers, the name of the
CHAPTER LXI. 428

Shining Mountains.

James's Peak has generally been cited as the highest of the chain; and its
elevation above the common level has been ascertained, by a
trigonometrical measurement, to be about eight thousand five hundred feet.
Mr. Long, however, judged, from the position of the snow near the summits
of other peaks and ridges at no great distance from it, that they were much
higher. Having heard Professor Renwick, of New York, express an opinion
of the altitude of these mountains far beyond what had usually been
ascribed to them, we applied to him for the authority on which he grounded
his observation, and here subjoin his reply:

Columbia College, New York, February 23, 1836.

Dear Sir, − In compliance with your request, I have to communicate some

facts in relation to the heights of the Rocky Mountains, and the sources
whence I obtained the information.

In conversation with Simon M'Gillivray, Esq., a partner of the Northwest

Company, he stated to me his impression, that the mountains in the vicinity
of the route pursued by the traders of that company were nearly as high as
the Himalayas. He had himself crossed by this route, seen the snowy
summits of the peaks, and experienced a degree of cold which required a
spirit thermometer to indicate it. His authority for the estimate of the
heights was a gentleman who had been employed for several years as
surveyor of that company. This conversation occurred about sixteen years
since.

A year or two afterwards, I had the pleasure of dining, at Major Delafield's

with Mr. Thompson, the gentleman referred to by Mr. M'Gillivray. I
inquired of him in relation to the circumstances mentioned by Mr.
M'Gillivray, and he stated that, by the joint means of the barometric and
trigonometric measurement, he had ascertained the height of one of the
peaks to be about twenty− five thousand feet, and there were others of
nearly the same height in the vicinity.
CHAPTER LXI. 429

I am, dear sir, To W. Irving, Esq. Yours truly, JAMES RENWICK.

Suggestions with respect to the Indian tribes, and the protection of our
Trade.

IN the course of this work, a few general remarks have been hazarded
respecting the Indian tribes of the prairies, and the dangers to be
apprehended from them in future times to our trade beyond the Rocky
Mountains and with the Spanish frontiers. Since writing those remarks, we
have met with some excellent observations and suggestions, in manuscript,
on the same subject, written by Captain Bonneville, of the United States
army, who had lately returned from a long residence among the tribes of
the Rocky Mountains. Captain B. approves highly of the plan recently
adopted by the United States government for the organization of a regiment
of dragoons for the protection of our western frontier, and the trade across
the prairies. "No other species of military force," he observes, "is at all
competent to cope with these restless and wandering hordes, who require to
be opposed with swiftness quite as much as with strength; and the
consciousness that a troop, uniting these qualifications, is always on the
alert to avenge their outrages upon the settlers and traders, will go very far
towards restraining them from the perpetration of those thefts and murders
which they have heretofore committed with impunity, whenever stratagem
or superiority of force has given them the advantage. Their interest already
has done something towards their pacification with our countrymen. From
the traders among them, they receive their supplies in the greatest
abundance, and upon very equitable terms; and when it is remembered that
a very considerable amount of property is yearly distributed among them by
the government, as presents, it will readily be perceived that they are
greatly dependent upon us for their most valued resources. If, superadded to
this inducement, a frequent display of military power be made in their
territories, there can be little doubt that the desired security and peace will
be speedily afforded to our own people. But the idea of establishing a
permanent amity and concord amongst the various east and west tribes
themselves, seems to me, if not wholly impracticable, at least infinitely
more difficult than many excellent philanthropists have hoped and
believed. Those nations which have so lately emigrated from the midst of
CHAPTER LXI. 430

our settlements to live upon our western borders, and have made some
progress in agriculture and the arts of civilization, have, in the property
they have acquired, and the protection and aid extended to them, too many
advantages to be induced readily to take up arms against us, particularly if
they can be brought to the full conviction that their new homes will be
permanent and undisturbed; and there is every reason and motive, in policy
as well as humanity, for our ameliorating their condition by every means in
our power. But the case is far different with regard to the Osages, the
Kanzas, the Pawnees, and other roving hordes beyond the frontiers of the
settlements. Wild and restless in their character and habits, they are by no
means so susceptible of control or civilization; and they are urged by
strong, and, to them, irresistible causes in their situation and necessities, to
the daily perpetuation of violence and fraud. Their permanent subsistence,
for example, is derived from the buffalo hunting grounds, which lie a great
distance from their towns. Twice a year they are obliged to make long and
dangerous expeditions, to procure the necessary provisions for themselves
and their families. For this purpose horses are absolutely requisite, for their
own comfort and safety, as well as for the transportation of their food, and
their little stock of valuables; and without them they would be reduced,
during a great portion of the year, to a state of abject misery and privation.
They have no brood mares, nor any trade sufficiently valuable to supply
their yearly losses, and endeavor to keep up their stock by stealing horses
from the other tribes to the west and southwest. Our own people, and the
tribes immediately upon our borders, may indeed be protected from their
depredations; and the Kanzas, Osages, Pawnees, and others, may be
induced to remain at peace among themselves, so long as they are permitted
to pursue the old custom of levying upon the Camanches and other remote
nations for their complement of steeds for the warriors, and pack−horses
for their transportation to and from the hunting ground. But the instant they
are forced to maintain a peaceful and inoffensive demeanor towards the
tribes along the Mexican border, and find that every violation of their rights
is followed by the avenging arm of our government, the result must be,
that, reduced to a wretchedness and want which they can ill brook, and
feeling the certainty of punishment for every attempt to ameliorate their
condition in the only way they as yet comprehend, they will abandon their
unfruiful territory and remove to the neighborhood of the Mexican lands,
CHAPTER LXI. 431

and there carry on a vigorous predatory warfare indiscriminately upon the

Mexicans and our own people trading or travelling in that quarter.

"The Indians of the prairies are almost innumerable. Their superior

horsemanship, which in my opinion, far exceeds that of any other people on
the face of the earth, their daring bravery, their cunning and skill in the
warfare of the wilderness, and the astonishing rapidity and secrecy with
which they are accustomed to move in their martial expeditions, will
always render them most dangerous and vexatious neighbors, when their
necessities or their discontents may drive them to hostility with our
frontiers. Their mode and principles of warfare will always protect them
from final and irretrievable defeat, and secure their families from
participating in any blow, however severe, which our retribution might deal
out to them.

"The Camanches lay the Mexicans under contribution for horses and mules,
which they are always engaged in stealing from them in incredible
numbers; and from the Camanches, all the roving tribes of the far West, by
a similar exertion of skill and daring, supply themselves in turn. It seems to
me, therefore, under all these circumstances, that the apparent futility of
any philanthropic schemes for the. benefit of these nations, and a regard for
our own protection, concur in recommending that we remain satisfied with
maintaining peace upon our own immediate borders, and leave the
Mexicans and the Camanches, and all the tribes hostile to these last, to
settle their differences and difficulties in their own way.

"In order to give full security and protection to our trading parties
circulating in all directions through the great prairies, I am under the
impression that a few judicious measures on the part of the government,
involving a very limited expense, would be sufficient. And, in attaining this
end, which of itself has already become an object of public interest and
import, another, of much greater consequence, might be brought about,
namely, the securing to the States a most valuable and increasing trade,
now carried on by caravans directly to Santa Fe.
CHAPTER LXI. 432

"As to the first desideratum: the Indians can only be made to respect the
lives and property of the American parties, by rendering them dependent
upon us for their supplies; which alone can be done with complete effect by
the establishment of a trading post, with resident traders, at some point
which will unite a sufficient number of advantages to attract the several
tribes to itself, in preference to their present places of resort for that
purpose; for it is a well−known fact that the Indians will always protect
their trader, and those in whom he is interested, so long as they derive
benefits from him. The alternative presented to those at the north, by the
residence of the agents of the Hudson's Bay Company amongst them,
renders the condition of our people in that quarter less secure; but I think it
will appear at once, upon the most cursory examination, that no such
opposition further south could be maintained, so as to weaken the benefits
of such an establishment as is here suggested.

"In considering this matter, the first question which presents itself is, where
do these tribes now make their exchanges, and obtain their necessary
supplies. They resort almost exclusively to the Mexicans, who, themselves,
purchase from us whatever the Indians most seek for. In this point of view,
therefore, coeteris paribus, it would be an easy matter for us to monopolize
the whole traffic. All that is wanted is some location more convenient for
the natives than that offered by the Mexicans, to give us the undisputed
superiority; and the selection of such a point requires but a knowledge of
the single fact, that these nations invariably winter upon the head waters of
the Arkansas, and there prepare all their buffalo robes for trade. These
robes are heavy, and, to the Indian, very difficult of transportation. Nothing
but necessity induces them to travel any great distance with such
inconvenient baggage. A post, therefore, established upon the head waters
of the Arkansas, must infallibly secure an uncontested preference over that
of the Mexicans; even at their prices and rates of barter. Then let the
dragoons occasionally move about among these people in large parties,
impressing them with the proper estimate of our power to protect and to
punish, and at once we have complete and assured security for all citizens
whose enterprise may lead them beyond the border, and an end to the
outrages and depredations which now dog the footsteps of the traveller, in
the prairies, and arrest and depress the most advantageous commerce. Such
CHAPTER LXI. 433

a post need not be stronger than fifty men; twenty−five to be employed as

hunters, to supply the garrison, and the residue as a defense against any
hostility. Situated here upon the good lands of the Arkansas, in the midst of
abundance of timber, while it might be kept up at a most inconsiderable
expense, such an establishment within ninety miles of Santa Fe or Taos
would be more than justified by the other and more important advantages
before alluded to, leaving the protection of the traders with the Indian tribes
entirely out of the question.

"This great trade, carried on by caravans to Santa Fe, annually loads one
hundred wagons with merchandise, which is bartered in the northern
provinces or Mexico for cash and for beaver furs. The numerous articles
excluded as contraband, and the exorbitant duties laid upon all those that
are admitted by the Mexican government, present so many obstacles to
commerce, that I am well persuaded, that if a post, such as is here
suggested, should be established on the Arkansas, it would become the
place of deposit, not only for the present trade, but for one infinitely more
extended. Here the Mexicans might purchase their supplies, and might well
afford to sell them at prices which would silence all competition from any
other quarter.

"These two trades, with the Mexicans and the Indians, centring at this post,
would give rise to a large village of traders and laborers, and would
undoubtedly be hailed, by all that section of country, as a permanent and
invaluable advantage. A few pack− horses would carry all the clothing and
ammunition necessary for the post during the first year, and two light
field−pieces would be all the artillery required for its defense. Afterwards,
all the horses required for the use of the establishment might be purchased
from the Mexicans at the low price of ten dollars each; and, at the same
time, whatever animals might be needed to supply the losses among the
dragoons traversing the neighborhood, could be readily procured. The
Upper Missouri Indians can furnish horses, at very cheap rates, to any
number of the same troops who might be detailed for the defense of the
northern frontier; and, in other respects, a very limited outlay of money
would suffice to maintain a post in that section of the country.
CHAPTER LXI. 434

"From these considerations, and my own personal observations, I am,

therefore, disposed to believe that two posts established by the government,
one at the mouth of the Yellowstone River, and one on the Arkansas, would
completely protect all our people in every section of the great wilderness of
the West; while other advantages, at least with regard to one of them,
confirm and urge the suggestion. A fort at the mouth of the Yellowstone,
garrisoned by fifty men would be perfectly safe. The establishment might
be constructed simply with a view to the stores, stables for the dragoons'
horses, and quarters for the regular garrison; the rest being provided with
sheds or lodges, erected in the vicinity, for their residence during the winter
months."

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Astoria, by Washinton Irving

Astoria

from http://manybooks.net/